


Prince x Wanderer

by LuckyCarrot



Category: Vocaloid
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-19 10:58:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 79,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5964756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyCarrot/pseuds/LuckyCarrot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaito was once more running away alone...But this time he had the skills to take vengeance for his fallen family. Revenge would bring unexpected forces into his life, however.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic, initially posted to Fanfiction.net. I took an extended hiatus around chapter 5, so you might notice a change (hopefully for the better) after that. 
> 
> I've made some pictures related to this work; if you wish to see them, please visit my account at Deviantart, under the username narumo. 
> 
> ***Currently looking for a beta for another KaitoxGakupo story, please contact me if interested***
> 
> Betas for PXW were L-est and bittersweetsekai.

The column of smoke rose above the trees, a deep grey stain in the clear skies. It looked completely out of place, a cruel lie to the senses. Nature wisely ignored it: the birds still chirped, the flowers by the trail remained as vibrant and perfumed as before. Only the man in worn dark clothes, until that moment trekking in silence across the wilderness, stopped and stared fearfully.

As soon as Kaito saw the smoke, he knew it was pointless to continue towards the encampment. Still, he pulled the hood over his dark blue hair and left the trail, hoping to be able to approach the site unnoticed by blending in the foliage.

Avoiding the spots where sunlight shone through the treetops, he carefully crept closer. Thankfully, the enemy didn’t even bother to place look-outs around the hideout, confident that nobody would dare oppose them. Soon, Kaito began to smell the stench, and hear the screams. Some of those voices belonged to people he had known for years, others were a mystery to him. All the while, part of him tirelessly repeated inside his head why there was nothing he could do: as skilled as he was, one man against many attackers was without question a lost fight. They had already defeated the rest of the band, and he was weary from the long journey.

And yet he continued. If nothing else, he had to see his friends, one last time. He would fix their faces in his mind, to remind him of what he must do next.

***

The Eto that Kaito used to visit in his mother’s nighttime stories had white cities and fields of ripe grain, merry festivals and roads frequented by caravans of merchants and troupes of minstrels and mummers. It was the Eto of the past: the great unified empire that spanned the archipelago and a sizable portion of the mainland, the nation that was the beacon for the entire world.

The Eto he lived in was a different thing altogether, a land in constant war for as long as he could remember. In fact, he had been told once that the land had not known a full year of peace ever since the death of the last emperor, decades before he was even born. The twelve biggest city-estates alternatively formed alliances and fought each other, and were besieged in turn by warlords. Peasants were oppressed by anyone with a modicum of power, and had to contend with monsters and wild beasts. The wide roads of old had fallen in disrepair, in many places without the number of guards and outposts that would dissuade animals and bandits from threatening the travelers.

Some people had no choice but to travel, however, and oftentimes paid a heavy price. Many years ago, Kaito’s family had to reach the town of Shirakaba, for some reason that the young boy couldn’t quite grasp. It didn’t matter all that much, either: they had lived all his life in a tiny farming village, and he was eager to see what lied before the low hills and thick forests. All the images of his fantasies, nursed by his mother’s tales, seem to suddenly lie beyond him, ready to be discovered. He eagerly gathered the few things he owned, and helped his parents pack.

Soon, the day to say goodbye to his old village came. His mother’s brother joined them as they reached the outskirts of the village, and they set off laughing and singing. Even the birds seemed to join in, chirping and dancing in the skies.

Kaito rode on top of the many boxes and bundles in his father’s cart, enjoying the trip, until they came to a place where the trail met a bigger road paved with small, regular stones. Soon after, a group of men intercepted them. A word with no meaning to him had been uttered: deserters. Long after, a now teenaged Kaito had understood who they were: soldiers running away from the latest skirmish between the cities of Mi no Ariake and Ne Irie.

Kaito could no longer remember what was said between the deserters and his family. In his mind’s eye, there was barely any transition. And no justification for what had happened next.

Quickly and casually, those strange men had slashed the throats of his father and uncle for the family’s meager supplies. Dark pools of liquid began to pool around their heads, soaking the ground, as Kaito stared numbly. A moment later, his mother was pushing him away and ordering him to run. In a haze, he had obeyed her, with her cries and the grotesque laughter of the deserters ringing in his ears.

He walked for a long time, sometimes on the hard, dusty stones of the road, sometimes by its side, vainly looking for something to palliate the hunger gnawing at his insides. He knew nothing about surviving in the wild, and the few farms he passed by had been grazed by the armies of one city or the other, and had nothing to offer. He didn’t even know how to return to the old village, where someone might actually help him. He continued on for hours and hours, wandering without knowing for certain what he hoped to reach. He would have died; another body unwanted and unnoticed, simply rotting by the wayside, if it hadn’t been for Tane and Mio.

Tane and Mio were husband and wife, and the leaders of a small band of bandits and thieves. Most of the band consisted of their own extended family, and various stragglers who couldn’t for some reason or another return to life inside a city-estate.

That day, Tane and a couple more bandits were heading back to their hideout when they ran into Kaito, half-delirious with thirst and hunger. By then, he had no way of escaping them. His destiny was completely on their hands.

And those pariahs, shunned by everyone else, had shared their water and food with him, and nursed him to sleep. Instead of ignoring him or finishing him off, they had carried him back with them, to the safety of their hideout.

And Mio, rough and scarred, had embraced him immediately, as if he had always been destined to be her child. She was very different from his day-dreaming, delicate mother, but she had loved Kaito, as best as she could, and so did Tane.

Kaito had learned much in the years that followed. They were, unmistakably, uncouth criminals, and everything Kaito now knew was a reflection of that: fighting with bare knuckles, knifes and swords, lock-picking and sniping, stealth and subterfuge. And yet, there was a certain code of conduct that governed their actions, a basic morality that allowed the shadow of the escaped boy to survive inside of the adult with icy eyes. He never killed any peasants, and tried to avoid robbing them whenever possible. Now, the military class and the rich merchants that supported them, keeping Eto in constant conflict? Over the years, Kaito developed a certain joy in depriving them of their superfluous trinkets and excessive luxury. It was as much justice as could be expected from this world.

And yet the world eventually struck another blow against him, leading him to that horrible day, and the tall column of smoke sullying the skies.

The doom of the band had come from their reduced numbers, and their unwillingness to bow to any power. Even as they watched other bands get swallowed or exterminated by the growing hordes under the command of the warlord Yu, Tane had stubbornly refused to move away to another region of Eto. They were on the way, and Yu would sooner or later make an example out of them. Still, they had clung to the usual haunts.

And the day had come. The hideout was wrecked, the trees of the orchard burnt to a crisp. Before the ruins, a line of corpses waited neatly for him. Everyone he had ever loved was now gone, and Kaito was once more running away alone. This time, however, he had the skills to take vengeance for his fallen family.

***

It was easy enough to join Yu’s forces. Immersed as he was in his campaign to rule over all of southwest Eto, Yu had a constant need for hired swords. Kaito just traveled south to Yu’s headquarters, a rapidly expanding fortress being constructed in a hill overlooking the town of Koume, and joined the latest group of hopefuls being ushered into an inner courtyard to be tested. In other circumstances, he might have been impressed by the frantic activity both in Koume and the fortress, the buzzing and cutting and smelting...It truly was a fine crimson city, strong in military might and commerce, blossoming under Yu’s stern hand. But in his mind’s eye, his second home was still burning, and with it, the corroding hate he felt for the warlord and his soldiers. Still, his face betrayed nothing as he waited for his turn to fight in front of the officers standing in a corner of the courtyard.

Any doubts the recruiters had about letting the young and unremarkable man join had been summarily dispersed by the time Kaito made the third meathead in a row fall to the ground during the trails. They cared little about his background: any man wanting to join the ranks was likely to be escaping the law of the city-estates, in any case, or a clueless farm-boy looking for some adventure.

He was assigned a place in the barracks, some basic equipment, and told where to report the next morning. It was almost disappointing in its simplicity, really. How could Yu be winning so much territory with practices this sloppy? Were the city-estates so stagnant and corrupt that a barely competent army like this could take their lands without punishment?

Getting closer to Yu wasn’t so easily accomplished. Kaito observed and studied the situation carefully, but soon the futility of a direct attack proved obvious. The warlord was well protected, always surrounded by his more loyal officers, or off to some battle or another. But the weeks passed, Kaito noticed something odd. There were days when Yu suddenly and inexplicably disappeared, leaving all his usual retinue behind. Wherever he went, it was a place he trusted no one to follow. There were numerous rumors among the ranks as to where Yu went, and Kaito finally culled from them what was the most likely explanation: Yu had a mountain retreat, where he kept his most prized treasures, and he liked to go there to unwind in a setting fit for a king.

An idea began to form in Kaito’s mind. At first, he had thought of nothing but ramming his knife through Yu’s chest. But now, the idea of raiding the warlord’s hideout had a certain appeal. Imagining the warlord’s rage at seeing his prized collection scattered and ruined, all the stolen items stolen in turn not by an invading army, but by a single lone thief, made Kaito feel a cold amusement.

As Yu disappeared randomly, it wasn’t possible to predict when he would next go to his mountain retreat. And watching the warlord so closely as to be able to spot him the moment he left would likely attract unwanted attention. In any case, Kaito reasoned, there was another way: Even if the mountain retreat was hidden, it would still need to be well stocked with food and beverages to make it a pleasurable place to rest. All of that had been transported there at one time, and would need replenishment. It was just a matter of finding the person responsible for maintaining the place in good condition.

The man in question was a sallow little thing called Akano; a mousey book-keeper permanently standing in the shadows as Yu and his lieutenants discussed one thing or another in the fortress’ dining hall. Kaito had vaguely wondered once or twice what he was doing in the middle of an army of thugs and muggers: Akano looked like he would be much more at ease behind the counter of a dinky store inside of a city-estate, or pouring over books in a musky library. Like most in Yu’s army, he probably had made one too many mistakes.

As soon as he started considering approaching the man for info, Kaito realized Akano had taken some kind of interest on him as well.

The very first time Kaito noticed it, he had been helping move around crates of weaponry. He paused for a moment near the place where Yu and his officers were discussing the latest attack on Bou, pretending to be tired. In actuality, he hoped to overhear something useful. As he stretched and wiped his brow, he felt someone observing him. He turned to see Akano watching him from behind a heavy tome, to which the meek man promptly returned after their eyes met.

After that, Kaito often discovered Akano staring at him from a window, or across a courtyard as he stood guard or did some menial work. At first, Kaito worried the man was suspecting something. Then one day, as he was asking for a bottle of wine at the soldiers’ cantina, Kaito saw the reflection of Akano’s face, watching him from the back. Ah, so that was it. All the better: Kaito was no stranger to charming information out of people, and having the man attracted to him made things all the more simple.

It turned out to be one of easier missions he had ever taken. A few drinks and some caresses later, he had the location of the retreat. And the best part was that Akano couldn’t tell on him, without condemning himself as well. Kaito considered his options, as he looked without pity at the man sprawled in bed, snoring drunkenly, and made a point of stealing Akano’s money pouch. He wouldn’t be collecting his last salary, after all.

***

At first, Kaito was disappointed in the size of Yu’s retreat: A simple but luxurious house nestled in a wide crevice between two crags of the mountain, accompanied by a small shed or storage and surrounded by a small garden and orchard, with a high wall closing off the entrance. Sure, the scenery around it was nothing short of breathtaking, but the home itself was just what a wealthy landowner would have, nothing more. Still, with the afternoon’s sun beating hard on his head, the garden looked rather appealing with its paths of stepping stones shaded by a couple of flowering trees. All in all, the retreat was certainly nice, but hardly worthy of deserving the attribute of kingly. Nevertheless, he could still have some enjoyment out of robbing and torching the place.

From his vantage point, half hidden behind a rock formation, he had a nice view of the whole complex. With the rope and hook in his hand, he could climb down to the roof of the shed without much trouble. But he waited and watched for a while. As far as he knew, Yu was busy attacking Bou at the moment, but there might be a servant or two around.

His patience was rewarded some time later, when a robed figure exited the house with a basket of something or another in its hands.

It wasn’t a servant, definitely. Although the figure’s face was obscured by the large shawl over its head, it was slender and graceful, and the fabrics covering it from head to toe were colorful and delicate, embroidered with gold threads and crystals. It walked slowly, with some difficulty, and Kaito was soon realized the reason: a heavy chain connected the figure’s ankles together, and two similar lengths of chain connected the figure’s hidden neck to its wrists.

Now this was interesting. Had Yu abducted some nobleman’s daughter? In a way, this explained his need for secrecy: if he was so infatuated with the girl, he wasn’t likely to trust any of the apes he surrounded himself with to leave her untouched. Instead, he came here from time to time and played house. Kaito was tempted to laugh.

It would probably be difficult to get back the princess where she belonged, even if her parents still ruled whatever place Yu had taken her from, but the potential reward seemed very well the effort. If not, he could always drop her off in some town, or even make her into his apprentice. He was a gregarious sort of man, and starting his own band of bandits seemed like the next step after he finished his work there.

The figure approached the shed, with the chain making an irritating sound as it dragged over the stones on the ground. Kaito briefly considered just stepping out of cover and calling out at her, but immediately rejected the idea. He had seen cases of people kidnapped who actually ended up helping their captors, out of some twisted attachment. The chains were a point against that notion, but he wasn’t about to take any chances. And there was always the possibility of someone else left inside the house. Instead he slid down silently when the figure entered the shed, and waited until she came out, knife at the ready.

A moment later, she exited, no longer with the basket in hand, and in a whirlwind of motion, Kaito grabbed both her wrists with one hand and pushed her against the shed’s wall, knife pointing at her...

...at his face.

The shawl had slipped off his head and shoulders, falling to the floor and releasing a cascade of vibrant purple hair that now framed a delicate but boyish face. To make matters more obvious, his chest was bare, aside of several expensive looking necklaces; quite likely, the boy was unable to wear the upper portion of his robes comfortably due to the chains constraining his arms.

Kaito at first estimated the young man to be a couple of years younger than him. Looking more closely, he quickly rectified the guess to around five years younger: He was tall, but the face was too childish to belong to a fully grown man. His eyes, a mixture of blue and green and shockingly bright, looked at him with more curiosity than alarm.

He was easily the most beautiful person Kaito had ever seen.


	2. Chapter 2

II

Silence stretched for a few seconds. Somewhere behind Kaito, insects buzzed happily around the flowers in the garden, and a bird chirped. The hair ornaments on each side of the young man’s brows clinked softly, as he tilted his head.   
  
”This is a bit uncomfortable,” he said, almost apologetically. “The chains are hurting my arms.” His voice was low and slightly hoarse, as if he was about to come down with a sore throat. And yet there was certain sweetness to his tones, a hidden laugh somewhere.

Kaito relaxed his hold slightly, still keeping the knife close to the boy’s neck. “Is there anyone else around here?” he asked.

“Just me.”

Kaito carefully gauged the boy’s expression. He seemed sincere enough.

At Kaito’s prompting, the boy started walking towards the house; with the bandit behind him keeping one of his hands resting on the boy’s left shoulder and the other aiming the knife at his back.

“You can take anything you want. I wouldn’t stop you even if I could,” The boy said calmly as they made their way along the garden path surrounded by fragrant bushes. Kaito made no reply.

They reached a side door, and stepped into the coolness of a small kitchen, with colorful painted tiles and a fire cracking in a corner inside a small furnace. In the wall opposing the door, an opening lead into what appeared to be a bigger living area.

The house was even fancier on the inside, which Kaito quickly discovered. It had indoor plumbing, something only the richest merchants and the aristocracy of the city-estates enjoyed, including a bathtub that –as Kaito noted to himself with a smirk-, could easily accommodate two people. The walls had painted frescoes with landscapes of the different zones of Eto, and although the furniture wasn’t overly abundant, it was lacquered and painted with gold. Kaito made the young man show him each room in turn, until he was satisfied there was no one else in the property.

The last room they visited was the master’s bedroom, with the expected large bed dominating a room of marble and fine dark wood. There were statues in the corners, and a couple of large trunks that Kaito couldn’t wait to riffle through. It seemed almost too intimidating a room to actually use, and in fact it was so neat it didn’t look as if it was being lived in at all.

“You sleep here?” Kaito stole a glance to the boy, who stood at the door quietly. His face was remote and unexpressive, like a festival mask.

“No,” he whispered. “Not when he’s away.”

Kaito felt a sudden rush of pity for the boy, almost surprising for its intensity. He sheathed the knife and fished a lock pick from one of his inside pockets.

“You know, that sound you make when you walk is driving me insane. Is there a place less stuffy we can sit in while I take those chains off?”

The young man turned to look at him wide eyed, the beginnings of a hopeful expression showing in his face.

***

The music room was a long rectangular space opened in one side, with the wall replaced by mats of straw that could be rolled up to reveal a view of the garden. On one end, there was a raised platform that served as a small stage, with a princely chair placed before it. Kaito instantly imagined the boy dancing in the stage for Yu’s enjoyment, with his long hair whipping around him. He shook his head, and made the boy sit on the chair, while he sat on the stage. He took one of the boy’s feet on his lap, and studied the manacle. At least Yu had them loose enough not to hurt the young man’s skin too much.

“My name’s Kaito. What’s yours?” He started casually.

“Gakupo Kamui.” The young man looked with interest as Kaito worked the lock.

“Kamui....like the theater actor?” Kaito raised his eyes in surprise, and Gakupo nodded.

“You have seen him perform?” Gakupo asked innocently.

“What? No, that’s far outside of my price range.” Not to mention, Bou’s guards had a bone or two to pick with him. ”But by reputation alone, that’s the first man one should think when hearing your name. He’s your old man?”

“He adopted me.”

Gakuto Kamui was the biggest theater actor in Bou. Even if the most of the performances were done in front of the most influential people in Eto, his skill was renowned far and wide, and the very few performances he did in front of the common people were almost legendary. Even Mio and Mine, one of her nieces, had a collection of woodprints celebrating Gakuto’s most famous roles. How could Yu get his hands on the son of such an important person?

“My father tried to get me exempted from the draft, but his main sponsor died in one of the attacks...His successor made sure every family sent at least one man to the barracks. I was captured in the very first battle I took part in.” Probably sensing his puzzlement, Gakupo explained in a sedate tone, again wearing a closed off expression on his face.

With a satisfying click, the manacle around Gakupo’s ankle fell open. Kaito rubbed the tender skin lightly and set off to work on the other one, considering what Gakupo had just told him. Bou was probably about to fall, if they were pulling unprepared boys from wealthy artist families to defend the walls. There were clearly defined roles in the upper echelons of the society of Eto, and in a normal situation only the military class and the populace would be required to serve in defense of the city-estate. And to staff common soldiers with middle and upper class citizens was almost unbelievable.

“That’s rotten luck,” Kaito understated. ”Here we go.” The other manacle fell as well, and Kaito threw the chain into a corner of a room with a whoop, prompting the shadow of a smile to pass through Gakupo’s face.

“Now for the hands,” Kaito took one of Gakupo’s hands, inwardly admiring the softness of the skin. His own hands had their share of scars and calluses born out or years of rough treatment, but Kaito didn’t particularly mind.

“You are very skilled at opening locks,” Gakupo said politely.

“Nah, I’m not even the best of my band at this.” There was no safe or lock that could resist little Mine, and she was well on her way to become a master of the craft before Yu’s attack. Kaito was facing downwards, still working on the lock, and allowed himself to cringe at the memory of Mine’s smile as they practiced lock-picking together back in the old hideout.

“Still, you are very quick,” Gakupo observed as the manacle opened, and Kaito rubbed his wrist.

“I try,” Kaito said modestly, already at work with the other wrist.

“Could you take me with you, when you leave?” Gakupo inquired, rather abruptly. “If you want a reward, I’m sure my father...”

“Bou is under attack at the moment. I wouldn’t’ go anywhere near it right now.” Gakupo’s face fell and Kaito hastily added, “But of course I’ll take you along. We’ll just have to hang low in the coast for a while until they force Yu back to Koume, and then I’ll take back to your dad.” He was rewarded with a real smile this time, unguarded and thoroughly adorable.

_If_ they force Yu back, Kaito thought to himself. If Bou fell, there was no guarantee Gakuto wouldn’t be killed, or slaved. Yu might even want both the father and the son to play with. Yet he kept all those thoughts to himself.

The manacle of Gakupo’s right hand opened, and he stretched his arms with a pleased expression. Kaito leaned forward, placing a hand on Gakupo’s chest.

“Keep your head up,” He instructed, looking at the collar around the boy’s slender neck. Gakupo tilted his head upwards, and closed his eyes patiently. Kaito felt a sudden urge to run a finger along Gakupo’s jaw. The way his soft hair was tickling his hands wasn’t adding to his concentration either. Kaito paused, trying to drive the unexpected impulses out from his head.

“This one looks a bit harder. Don’t worry if I take longer, I’ll get it undone.” If I manage to keep myself focused, Kaito didn’t add. He pushed Gakupo’s long strands of hair out of the way and tried to ignore the very pretty boy inside of the collar.

“I was just about to start cooking dinner before you came,” Gakupo said, oblivious to the effect he was having on the bandit. “Are we staying here tonight?”

“Hm...? Ah, yes, it’s too late in the day to set out now. We’ll leave tomorrow morning, so prepare some rations and pack anything you’d like to take after dinner.”

“...I don’t need anything of his.”

“You’ll need at least a couple of robes until we get to a place we can buy something less flashy. And I intend to sell all the fancy jewelry you are wearing, and anything else I can easily carry, if you don’t mind.”

“Do that. I don’t want to see any of these things ever again.” Gakupo’s voice was stony. At that moment, the collar surrendered his hold on the young man’s neck. Gakupo jumped out of the chair, letting the chain fall to the floor with a loud noise, and went through a series of moves that probably were part of some ceremonial dance. Kaito looked on, amazed at the fluidity of his movements, wondering in some corner of his mind if Gakuto’s performances were anything like this. If that was the case, it was no wonder people flocked to his theater every week.

Gakupo stopped in the middle of an elaborate bow, and smiled sheepishly. “It’s been so long I been completely unchained, I just wanted to try... Sorry.” He pulled the upper portion of his robes up and wrapped himself properly in them, somewhat self-consciously.

“Hey, don’t apologize. Moneybags all over Eto pay to see that, and I get to watch some of it for free,” he said.

Gakupo chuckled lightly at this.

***

Though admittedly he had but a short criminal career –he was in his twenties, after all- Kaito had never faced a situation quite like this. None of his victims (merchant caravans, mostly) had ever sat him down at a fancy dining table and fed him a delicious dinner, certainly. Despite his protests, Gakupo had insisted on doing all the preparations on his own, and hadn’t sat by his side until everything was on the table, steaming and gleaming, and making Kaito wish more raids ended up as dinner dates.

By the time they were done eating, Kaito was smiling from ear to ear, for the first time in months. He set out with Gakupo to find the best things to loot, and he merrily trashed everything else, toppling over the statues and dropping the drawers of every piece of furniture to the floor, spilling their contents. Gakupo watched with discrete elation, and even stomped on a couple of things. He readily agreed to burn the house down the next morning, but wanted to spare the garden and orchard, if possible. Kaito suspected the greenery had been much more comforting to the boy that any of the finery Yu had surrounded him with.

When they were done, they piled a bunch of rugs, pillows and blankets in the music room, and laid down side-by-side speaking of what they would do the next day until sleep claimed them. All in all, it was the perfect end to cap the day.

Later that night, Kaito was lying facing the row of mats that served as a wall, stopping the night’s chill from entering the room. He knew them to be closed, and yet now as he laid dreaming, one of them was partly rolled up, and he could glimpse a wavering silvery flame moving among the shadowed plants in the garden. It parted into a scattering of twinkling, fluttering lights around a dancing figure. The opalescent lights reflected on the figure’s body, like sunrays traveling under the surface of a clear pool of water. Kaito suddenly felt weightless, as if floating, even as he knew himself heavy and immobilized by sleep. He felt a desperate need to reach out and take the figure in his arms, but his arms and legs failed to respond. The rhythm of the dance seemed to be punctuated by the throbbing of his head as he struggled with the cage of his own body. He longed to cry out, to call the figure to his side, but his throat was closed and useless. The figure continued its dance, slipping gently into the shadows, and Kaito fell deeper into sleep, sluggish and incoherent images dissolving slowly in his mind.

By the time he awoke, the next day, Gakupo was already up, making breakfast in the kitchen, and Kaito pushed aside the dream without a second thought.

 


	3. Chapter 3

III

Coming down the mountains with Gakupo was almost like traveling with a large purple puppy, Kaito reflected. The first day he was clearly excited, in his quiet way, walking around looking at this and that, almost running circles around Kaito in his relief at being freed. In his defense, the northern slopes of the Manshirazan range were beautiful at that time of the year, covered with wild flowers in all the colors of the rainbow, and shaded with large pines and larches. The young artist made for a lovely image as he walked across patches of light and shadow, the hem of his colorful robes softly caressing the buds and young leaves.

The second day he was slightly subdued, however, and Kaito made a mental note to add sensible shoes to the list of things they needed to get when they reached the town. The high courtier sandals Gakupo was wearing were clearly doing him no favors, although the boy didn’t complain.

Kaito’s plans were to travel northeast into the lands under the control of Ne Irie, and maybe settle for a while in one of the little coastal towns that surrounded the port city-estate. Yu had shown no interest yet in that region, and probably didn’t have the manpower to attempt any sort of direct conflict with them. Ne Irie was one of the strongest city-estates, with control over the trading routes with overseas, and a large fleet of swift vessels.  

Their first stop was Reikou, a small town just north of the mountains, where Kaito knew a man that could help him to sell some of the jewelry they were carrying, and get papers to enter Ne Irie’s borders.

By the time they were walking the town’s muddy streets towards Tomoshiro’s store, Kaito was kicking himself mentally for his lack of foresight. Although Gakupo was garbed in the sturdiest and most subdued robes he could find, he still stood up against the drab clothing of the peasants walking about. Kaito saw a group of gossiping housewives staring with clear jealousy at the richly embroidered clothing and rubbed the bridge of his nose in irritation. He should’ve made Gakupo wait outside town while he negotiated with Tomoshiro and bought everything they needed, but he didn’t want to leave him alone for too long. But someone was bound to remember him and talk if Yu sent his minions this way.    

Finally they reached Tomoshiro’s store, a darkly-lit, smoky establishment filled with all sorts of wares, displayed in long tables and cabinets along the walls. Tomoshiro himself was behind the counter, a big man with a round belly and ruddy cheeks. He looked too jolly to be involved in contraband and forgery, but Kaito had learned years ago looks meant little in the business.

“Kaito, you devil! You are alright!” Tomoshiro’s eyes filled with sincere happiness at seeing him. Undoubtedly, he had heard about the attack on Tane and Mio’s band.

“Yeah, I was taking care of some business at town when...” Kaito trailed off, fiddling absently with the muffler on this neck.

“I’m so sorry about what happened....but it’s so good to see you! Mina is going to be so happy when I tell her...hum, and who’s this?” Tomoshiro finally noticed Gakupo a few steps away, his face half-covered by the shawl.

“Haha, you got a noble girl to elope with you or something, you cur! I bet she’s a real looker too!” Tomoshiro took a step towards Gakupo, and the young man automatically took two steps back, shyly drawing the shawl upwards and turning partly away. His left hand raised in a gesture similar to the ones upper-class women used to signify a negative. It was uncommon among the higher classes of Eto for women to venture out in the streets, and when they did, they spoke as little as possible, instead resorting to gestures to communicate with the lower classes.

Kaito raised his eyebrows at this, but felt no need to intervene, given that Tomoshiro backed away immediately.

“Oh, sorry, sorry! Where are my manners? A nice lady comes into my store and I lose my head!” Tomoshiro laughed riotously.

“Why don’t you take a look around the store while I speak with this fool of an old man?” Kaito said to Gakupo, and Gakupo nodded silently, walking towards a cabinet filled with hair ornaments and masks.

“What a nice, obedient little thing. How did you get your dirty hands on someone like that?”

“My charming personality, perhaps?” Kaito shrugged, unwilling to get into details.

“Right. Well, I’m assuming you didn’t come here just to show off, did you? What can I do for you?” Tomoshiro lead Kaito behind the counter into a corner with a table and a couple of chairs, hidden from the door of the store by a heavy cabinet full of rolled fabrics.

Kaito took the sack of jewelry and spilled it over the table, drawing a gasp out of Tomoshiro.

“What the...? Where did you get all of this? Don’t tell that girl is letting you sell her things?! Now that’s love for you.” Tomoshiro chuckled and continued, “But I don’t have enough cash on hand to buy all of this at once, at least not now. I can give you thirty grand right now and fifty more later if you come back in the afternoon, but any more will have to wait until I actually sell some of it.”

“That’s fine with me. I’m going for Ne Irie, and I’ll need papers for me and my companion. Keep some of it in payment for that, and turn the rest into credit with your guild there.”

“You got it.” Tomoshiro accepted the sack of jewelry from Kaito and disappeared into a dark corridor at the back of the store. “I’ll be back in a moment,” he said without turning his head.

Kaito took the opportunity to check on Gakupo, still loitering about in the front of the store.

“Have you found anything you like?” Kaito asked casually.

“He has many nice things...” Gakupo said vaguely, and then, “He thinks I’m a girl.”

So did I at first, Kaito thought. He scratched the back of his head and noted “Well, you did nothing to dissuade him of the notion, with the hand gestures and all.”

“I thought it may be useful for him to think that. If _he_ looks for me, he's going to be looking for a male, right?”

“That’s prudent.” Kaito patted Gakupo in the shoulder. “But Tomoshiro wouldn’t rat us out, I’m sure of it.”

Before Gakupo could reply, the older man reappeared with some folders in his hands. Kaito went back to the counter.

“Here you go. The price estimate for the lot, letters of recommendation and credit with the guild, and border passes for your ladylove and you.”

Kaito considered for a moment. “Do you have a hooded cape, something simple? I think we are attracting too much attention out there in the street.”

“You don’t say. Sure, I think I have something appropriate around here...” Tomoshiro went to a rack of clothes, and handed him a long cape with no decorations except a trim of dusty small stars. Gakupo put it on without bothering to take off the shawl, probably to avoid having to show off his face to Tomoshiro.

It was understandable for Gakupo to be suspicious of people after what had happened to him, but Kaito hoped it would eventually subside. It was good to be careful, but the best way to get out of trouble was to act normally. Tomoshiro just laughed again and shook hands with Kaito, while Gakupo went to stand at the door.

“Take your girl for some lunch while I get more funds, alright? She’s a bit on the scrawny side. My Mina had great curves at that age...”the older man sighted wistfully. ”Remember you are supposed to feed them once in a while,” he added with a wink.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Kaito waved and headed for the exit.

***

When he first woke up, with a nasty headache and shivering at the coldness of the room, Akano kept his eyes closed, his fingers vainly grasping at the rumpled sheets. He knew he was alone. In a moment, he would have to get up and drag himself to the bathroom, which would be as empty as his bed was. He sunk his face in the pillow, and thought he could smell the scent of another clinging faintly to the fabric.

Akano spent that day desperately hoping, waiting to see the young man appear at the end of every corridor of Yu’s fortress. With each hour, the smile in his memories turned more and more into the mocking sneer he knew he deserved for his stupidity. In the evening, he reluctantly went back to his chilly rooms, still without any news of the young man. When he walked past a group of soldiers passing the time singing and talking in one of the courtyards, their laughter was like an echo of the many times people had laughed at him back in the city for his mistakes.

Later, he made some discreet inquiries. The young man had not returned to his barracks that night. He didn’t return the next day, or the days that followed. He had simply vanished. And no one cared, except for Akano.

He knew that, in some level, he had been aware the young man wasn’t interested in him. It was only natural...youth and beauty and cold fire had never been meant for him. But he had wanted him so badly he didn’t care, and after some cups he was willing to do and say whatever the soldier wanted as long as he could touch someone again.

And the young man had banked on that desperation, Akano could tell. Going over all he could remember saying that evening, he could deduce what the man’s intentions had been easily enough. He clearly expected Akano to be too cowardly to do something it.

The more he thought about it, the more Akano pilled all of his frustrations on the image of the man with blue hair. As the days passed, a lifetime of little vexations and fruitless desires came to rest on his handsome shoulders. And the book-keeper decided to burn down the effigy of his loathing, one way or another.

He didn’t need to come clean with Yu at all. He could simply go to his mountain retreat with the excuse of checking if the little pet had the foodstuff he needed for the coming weeks, and then report the intrusion of a thief. If the man had mistreated the artist boy in any way, Akano would have more leeway to order one of Yu’s squads to hunt him down. Yu’s instructions were to keep his plaything safe, and would approve the murder of a simple deserter without further inquiry. No one had to know how the young man had figured out the location of the retreat.

***

Kaito and Gakupo approached the old road that connected all the coastal towns of that region of Eto without incident. It was a desolate sight; a wide empty path from one side of the horizon to another, surrounded by meager coastal vegetation and small dunes. Soon they would be outside of the lands under Yu’s influence, and they would reach one of Ne Irie’s watch posts, the pale remainder of the empire’s tight control on its routes. Kaito hoped Tomoshiro’s papers were good enough to go through the checkpoint.

Despite the uncertainty of the period, there were still a couple of inns by the side of the road from time to time, and the pair stopped at one the third day after leaving behind Reikou. It was nice to have the opportunity to bathe after a couple of days on the road, and look forward to a night on a proper bed.

The rooms they had been given were a pair of bedrooms, with a central room connecting them. The central room served as a private dining area, with a low table and pillows to sit in, a couple of painted screens and an open balcony overlooking the road.

Kaito sat on a blue pillow next to the table, sipping on some tea while he waited for Gakupo to return from the bath. The sunset dyed the room with orange tones, and candles drew sparkles from the varnished teacups and pot.

Gakupo finally returned with the tips of his hair slightly damp. With hair that long, it was quite a task to get it dry, Kaito figured. It would be a shame to cut hair so beautiful short, but things may come to a point where it became a hindrance. He loathed considering it, though, with the way it shined as Gakupo neared the table.

Gakupo looked at him in confusion.

“It may be just the light, but.... er, your hair looks lighter, somehow.” He said, raising a hand to touch the lock of hair that hung over Kaito’s right eye. His hand stopped in midair, and he sheepishly drew back and sat on a nearby pillow, muttering an apology.

“Relax. I usually dye my hair black, but I haven’t been able to get it done these past few months, so it’s pretty much faded into my real color by now. I guess this last bath must’ve taken the last of the dye away.”

Mio was the one that prepared the herbs to dye his hair whenever he needed it. He knew the recipe by heart, but never could get it just right so that the tincture would last more than few days. The last batch Mio prepared for him had burned along with everything else, and Kaito didn’t feel like getting dye from a stranger in Koume.

“But why dye it? It’s such a distinctive color...”

“Precisely. Your hair must be an asset, since you are an entertainer, but my usual line of work demands more subtlety. I need to blend in, and most people don’t have hair like ours.” Gakupo nodded at this, pensive.

Kaito thought back at one evening, long ago...His mother was tucking him in bed, and he demanded one last story before the lights were turned off.

“Let’s see...have you ever wondered why your father and you are the only ones with blue hair in the village?” His mother asked. Kaito shook his head.

“Most people have brown or black hair, you know. It may be different in other places, but here that’s about it. However, in the times of the empire, there was another race of people that lived here with us....It is said they were lithe, fragile beings, but with ancient magic of terrible power. When people of Eto were earth and clay, the spirit people were air and wind and flowers growing high above the ground. Many feared them, but they were friends of the imperial line, at first, and many of their princesses became wives and concubines of the emperors over the years. “

“Most of them disappeared in the later years, when the empire started declining. No one knows where they went. The few that married men or women of Eto and remained here never revealed the secret.”

“Your father is a distant descendent of one of them. Just a few drops of blood, he used to say. But it clearly shows. When I think of the first time I saw him walk into the village, with his eyes like stars and hair the color of the summer skies....” His mother said and blushed. “And to think he would choose me, among all the girls of the village!”

“Can I do magic?” Kaito asked.

“Oh no! The gift diluted when they married with people of Eto, I’m afraid. Still, there is a certain power in looking like you do,” she lovingly ran her hand over his head. Kaito was still pretty disappointed, though.

Kaito’s mind came back to the present with a knock at the door. It was a couple of serving girls, bringing their supper. Gakupo covered his head with his shawl and went to stand in the balcony, his back turned towards the room, and stayed there until they left.

***

Later that evening, Kaito laid awake in his bed, staring blindly at the ceiling. He regretted asking for separate bedrooms –he always preferred having some company around, be it the rest of Tane and Mio’s band, or even the soldiers at Yu’s barracks, and the last couple of days had been enough to accustom him to Gakupo’s presence. It was embarrassing, but he hated being alone.

He thought about the young man in the bedroom opposite his own, and smiled. He could just imagine him, his hair spilling all around his head, his expression placid and remote. A hand over his chest, almost as white as the sheets, and the other resting by his side as he slept with no dreams…His lips, soft and slightly parted...

No, he would leave the boy alone. He hadn’t shown any sign of interest towards him, and probably was too traumatized by his recent experiences to desire any kind of physical affection.

Kaito rolled over to the side and willed himself to sleep.

***

Tomoshiro’s papers and some coins were more than enough to cross into Ne Irie territory unquestioned. The road continued northeast, leading the pair into the town of Benida, a steep maze of narrow streets zigzagging atop the hills overlooking the bay of Jagawan. It was a few days away from the city-estate itself, but still important enough to have a guild office from Tomoshiro’s guild inside its walls.

Gakupo stood by one of the windows staring at the ocean, while Kaito talked with the guild’s representative. He looked over Kaito’s letters and agreed to help him find a place to stay, and a job for Kaito at the docks if he felt so inclined. It was for the best, Kaito decided, or people would start wondering how they could afford living without a visible source of income.

“Do I need to get a job too?” Gakupo suddenly piped in, turning around to face them. The guild representative blinked, obviously surprised with his voice. He had probably assumed from Tomoshiro’s papers that he was a girl, and hadn’t bothered to look at him more closely.

“Ah, no, I think one of us should be enough. It’s just for a semblance of normalcy, you know?” Kaito wondered if Gakupo had ever done heavy work of any kind ever in his life. It was alright. He didn’t resent the knowledge that some people had more money than him. Not considering how he had earned most of his keep during these past years.

Gakupo seemed to accept this, and returned his gaze towards the sea.

“So, I was thinking of this place by the southern harbor...” the representative started, recovering from his surprise.

***

It was a white house, very close to the shore. Just a few minutes walking down the sloped path, and one would reach the low cliffs, unkempt and wild with weeds. The paint in the windows was chipped away and the fence rusty with the salty wind, but it was more than serviceable. Gakupo immediately claimed the room in the front corner of the house, with a large bow window serving as most of the north and east walls of the room. He sat in the sill, curled like a cat, and watched the distant boats out in the bay.

“Once we get settled in, we’ll go for a walk around town, alright? We need to know where everything is.” Kaito popped his head inside the room, holding in his arms some musty bedding he had found in a cupboard.

“All right.” Gakupo turned around to see him, but his gaze seemed unfocused. “Do you really think Bou is going to defeat him?”

Kaito shifted the weight in his arms, uncomfortable. It seemed wrong to directly lie to Gakupo, somehow.

“...Things look pretty bad. Yu’s soldiers aren’t exactly the most selected bunch, but a city cut off from most of his resources can only hold on for so long. If they can manage to kill Yu himself, that would be a different story. I’m pretty sure most of the men would simply leave to plunder elsewhere or even raid Koume itself, without a leader to keep them in check.”

Gakupo’s eyes wandered once more towards the scenery outside. “I hope they don’t make my father fight. He wanted to be the one to enlist for our family, but I ran into the soldier’s hall and offered myself instead. The officers there agreed –I was more expendable, anyway.”

“...How long did they train you before they sent you outside the walls?” Kaito asked.

“Two days.”

Kaito stared, speechless with incredulity.


	4. Chapter 4

Their walk started pleasantly enough. It had rained during the night, just a light shower, and the air was fresh and cool. Kaito and Gakupo set out with no particular destination in mind, just taking in the mismatched appearance of the city.

Benida’s houses were a picturesque mess of different styles and colors, fighting amongst themselves for whatever space were available between the ravines; if a fleet of ships of gaily painted wood, rusty metal, brick and mortar had once crashed against the cliffs and scattered all over, the result would look much like the small city. The streets were mostly muddy and twisted lanes that barely gave enough space for the odd carriage. Stones or concrete were used to form stairs, or to make a small terrace-like space before the door of some houses.

It was on one of those barely functional stairs that Gakupo tripped, and went tumbling down the street, until he stopped with a splash in a big puddle of filthy rainwater.

A group of drunks were sitting nearby, around the door to a liquors store. They wore disheveled robes in various states of disrepair, and probably could have used a light shower themselves. They erupted in laughter, whistling and shouting catcalls directed at Gakupo, revealing a nasty collection of yellowed teeth...or in the case of one with a particularly bushy unibrow, two or three teeth barely hanging to his gums.

Kaito gave them his best death glare (though admittedly it had been one of the most impressive falls he’d ever seen). He then splashed into the puddle to fish Gakupo out. The artist was more or less in a sitting position, the heavy curtain of the hair as soaked as the once white robes. He was rubbing one of his knees. When he saw Kaito coming close, he tried to stand but went back to sitting with a grimace.

“Wait! You’ll get dirty!” he exclaimed when Kaito bent down to pick him up.

“Who cares?”

Kaito wasn’t the strongest man around, but Gakupo was light enough to carry in his arms without too much difficulty. In fact, he rather liked the feeling of holding him close, suspiciously smelly water and all.

The drunks cackled and cheered when he started walking down the street with Gakupo still in his arms, despite his vehement protests.

“It was just the first attempt, you know. I’m sure I can walk.”

“You can limp, perhaps. This is faster.”

“....And embarrassing too,” Gakupo added in a small voice.

***

As most as the houses in Benida, the space destined for washing clothes and taking baths was separate from the main house, a small semi-open shack with floors of stones cut in dissimilar shapes, forming a couple of sunken bathtubs, with pipes pouring a slim stream of water into them. The water was heated after passing close to a furnace next to the shack, or could be heated over it in buckets. Gakupo sat in one of the tubs, with water up to the navel and a nonplussed expression on his face, but made no comment until Kaito poured a bucket of warm water over his hair. He then turned to face the bandit, who was kneeling by the side of the bathtub.

“Thank you for your assistance, but my hands are perfectly fine,” he said calmly, with the distant mask Kaito now easily recognized as his upset expression.

“No problem. Just call me when you need to get back into the house.”

He spoke lightly, but inwardly he felt slightly frustrated. He stood up and added, “I’ll be in the back,” before stepping outside the shack.

The garden, as it were, was a rectangle marked with uneven blocks of wood and rusty wire. There was nothing but weeds and some litter at the back, with a bench placed more or less in the center. Kaito sat on it, and looked at the sea. After a while, he took off his shirt. The sun was drying out the muck on it, giving a less than pleasant aroma.

What was he even doing here? He could’ve just gone north after Yu’s attack and joined a gang in one of the cities. He saw himself clearly, singing raucously in a bar, surrounded by happy if less than attractive faces, with no worries beyond the easily bribed guards. Nothing to think, nothing to make him second-guess himself.

Nothing of any importance, too, until the day he died.

He sighed. He had gone looking for revenge, and perhaps the opportunity to rob the warlord of his most prized possessions, instead. And so Kaito had found Yu’s treasure...And it turned out treasures demanded a bit more out of him than his usual loot.

He could just drop the kid somewhere and take off...But he shot down that thought immediately. Despite Tane not being his real father, he somehow had inherited the old man’s persistence. He wanted to see this thing to the end.

He eyed the shack. Was Gakupo still not done? Even taking his long hair into consideration, it was quite a while...He approached the shack and peeked in. Empty. Evidently, Gakupo had decided on limping back inside, before calling out for him. Kaito felt a pang of disappointment, but shrugged it off and began to clean himself.

After he was done, he went back into the house, wearing only his pants, and drying his hair with an old towel he had found in the linens closet. Before anything else, he wanted to see if Gakupo was okay. He peered into his favorite room, bathed by the sunlight coming in through the bow window.

Gakupo was lying on the bare floorboards with one hand shielding his eyes from the light. His hair was spread in all directions, like a veil of purple silk. He was bare except for a white pair of the knee-length pants he wore under the robes. His skin was almost as white, ethereal and inviting, except for the couple of places scraped during his fall. Kaito wondered if he was napping.

After a few moments, Gakupo moved his hand enough to look at him with one eye, a brilliant and unreadable green marble. Just as Kaito was thinking of coming out with any excuse to go away, Gakupo gestured at him with his other hand.

“Come,” he whispered, barely audible. Despite himself, Kaito felt his eyes widen.

Gakupo patted the floor by his side, and Kaito numbly went down and lied on the spot. The ceiling really needed some mending, he distantly noted. He made to turn to his side and look at Gakupo, but the boy whispered again.

“Don’t move.” Kaito was puzzled by this. What did Gakupo want from him, exactly? It was really hard to tell what he was thinking, sometimes. But he complied, his hands resting on his chest, and tried to relax. For a few minutes, he stared idly at the dust motes swimming in the light. The faint sound of the waves was quite distinct, the one sound to reign in the tranquil noon.

Finally, the floorboards creaked slightly and he felt Gakupo shift position. A hand landed over his, the hesitant softness of a butterfly. Then a brush on his arm, near the shoulder...and now Gakupo was pressing his forehead against him, and trembling slightly.

Kaito knew then he had to keep still. If he moved, Gakupo would slip away from his fingers, no matter what. Like a glacier waiting for the touch of spring, he could wait, until Gakupo decided it was time for the thaw. Although he wanted nothing more than to roll over Gakupo and take his mouth, his whole body, right there in the empty room, he waited gladly.

And so he did, for many days thereafter.

***

A semblance of normalcy...that’s what Kaito had said. But what was normal? He hadn’t lived in a village, amongst normal people, since he was a small child. He knew normal from the outside, like a parasite, if he was honest with himself, taking things from warehouses and poorly guarded merchant convoys.

The closest thing he had done to honest work was tending the orchards Tane and Mio kept near the hideout for times of bad luck. And now he was leaving the house at dawn, when the fog still hugged the houses of Benida, to pass the morning in the docks, doing odd works for the guild, mostly hauling sacks and boxes from one place to another. With some surprise, he found himself enjoying it –the banter with the other men, the smells of the harbor...and what he had mockingly heard referred to as the satisfaction for a work well done. He wondered what his life would have been if his family had reached their destination safely. Would he be a simple farmer, with a wife and some kids who would be overjoyed at a good harvest, and proud of the size of his cabbages?

As time passed, Kaito felt his anger at Yu’s attack, the cold anger that made him capable of anything, not exactly disappear, but sink deeply within himself...he didn’t want it to rule him over forever, as useful as it was to avoid feeling anything else. Smiles came more easily, and he could feel himself return to his more easygoing self, one step at a time.

He returned each day to eat in the white house with Gakupo, and they would spend the afternoon in the beach, wondering aimlessly between the dark rocks covered with salt and the strange creatures of the sea. Gakupo knew the names of some of them (the benefits of an actual education, Kaito guessed) and sometimes would pick an interesting rock or shell to place in the sill of his bow window. At times, they would sit silently over the ruins of the old structures of the harbor, the remains of the imperial Benida of the past, clearly a more grandiose place than the merry chaos now occupying the hills.

Each day, the fog between them continued to swirl, slowly affording more and more glances towards what lied beyond. Like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, Gakupo would sometimes smile at him like he did the first day, and he could sense under it the young man as he had been at the theater, earnest and happy, diligently learning his elegant craft inside a colorful and perfect bubble.

Between his bouts of silence, he would share a story of those times. There were many rituals in the theater world, to ensure good performances and the love of the audience. Gakupo’s father kept an altar to the old imperial gods of music, dance and luck in one of the rooms behind the stage, and the young artist described for him the daily routine of caring for the small shrine, and the offerings that all the members of the company usually presented before each important performance. Kaito did light some incense now and then for the luck god himself, before some jobs, but this was much more elaborate, it seemed.

The actual work of learning and practicing dances, songs and plays was similarly ritualized. Each day was filled with routines of meticulous details followed with devotion. Gakupo would gesture in the solitary beach for him, imitating the stern-faced teachers that attempted to drill into him and other apprentices just the right movement of a hand, a small step, a perfect tone of voice. Even the smallest act seemed to have had a set order and rhythm in the theater.

Sometimes, it was just a small, personal anecdote: Gakupo’s first speaking role as a messenger of the pirate king...the time someone had sent him what appeared to be half a garden’s worth of purple flowers...the time he had unexpectedly chocked before belting out the main solo of a play, and how terrible he had felt afterwards...

Kaito felt grateful for the growing displays of trust in him, but also something not so pleasant, something he had trouble identifying. It felt like jealousy, in a way: he pictured himself plunging into that intelligible world and plucking Gakupo like a flower, taking him into a reality he could more readily understand. It was easy, he supposed. If he never returned Gakupo to Bou, he doubted his father would ever know he was still alive. And he could convince him to stay with him, he knew he could. He knew how to charm well enough.

But then he would see Gakupo curled up in his favorite spot, sadly staring at the waves, and hate himself for those thoughts.

***

One afternoon they were returning home, after buying some groceries at one of the city’s biggest bazaars, when they passed a house with a large front garden, something of a rarity in Benida. It was a slightly misshapen rhomboid filled with potted plants and chairs and tables, a respectably distance above street level and guarded by a metal fence. It was currently packed with people laughing and singing, celebrating someone’s birthday.

Kaito turned towards Gakupo, smiling.

“I have two birthdays, you know.”

“How so?” Gakupo asked curiously.

“Well, there’s the actual day I was born, and the day I joined my band.” Mio had always insisted on celebrating the day he was brought to her as his birthday, and it did make some sense, in a way. The fact he received presents in both days anyway didn’t hurt.

“Is ...one of your birthdays near?”

“Nope, I’m a winter man through and through. How about you?”

“I don’t know when I was born.” Gakupo tried vainly to flatten the wild hairs on the top of his head, a gesture of uncertainty also familiar to Kaito by now. “My father celebrates the day he formally adopted me as his heir instead, in the middle of summer.”

“That is closer, then.” Kaito glanced at Gakupo, appraising his mood. He decided he looked expansive enough to try further questioning.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you come to live at Kamui’s house?”

“Well...,” Gakupo looked at the houses in their path, no doubt threading his tale in his head. “I don’t remember that far, but from what I was told, I was found one night by a traveling troupe of minstrels. They were watching a star shower, camped at the edge of some woods, when I just wandered into the light of their fire, babbling in some strange tongue. They said I was dressed in finery, but of a design different from any of the styles popular then in Eto. At first, they thought I might be a spirit of the woods, but I was quite tangible.”

Kaito stopped. The white house was already in view, but the tale had made forget himself, and his growling stomach demanding supper.

“But...what were you doing out there, on your own?”

Gakupo turned to look at him with an odd expression, and then continued walking, forcing Kaito to follow him.

“....They weren’t any big roads near, but a child so small and well-dressed had to come from a nearby convoy of city folk, they figured. So some of them grabbed torches and searched for another camp, or an isolated wagon, or...anything. They didn’t find any traces of other people around, however.”

“So?”

“So they took me in. They began to teach me how to talk, to dance and sing, and I became part of their act for a while. I liked to perform in front of people, even then. The leader of the troupe saw potential in me, I guess, because he took me to Bou and sold me to the Kamui Theater House to serve and train there as an apprentice. I have never found out where I came from in the first place.”

Gakupo fell silent as they entered the house. They went straight to the kitchen at the back of the place, and began to unpack the ingredients for their meal. Gakupo washed some vegetables and placed them on the cutting board, and then continued, while he carefully sliced them.

“I was able to catch my Father’s eye quickly. I started to serve him personally after a couple of weeks, and he began to sit on my practice lessons to observe me and give advice soon after. Some of the other boys were...not too happy with the attention I was being given, but I was moved to my Father’s house before it could go beyond name-calling. By the next time I saw them, I was back at the Theater as the owner’s son. They were very pleasant then.” Gakupo smiled ruefully.

“You must be pretty talented...hell, I know you are, I’ve seen you dance. You dad picked the best heir he could hope for.”

Gakupo smiled wider then, blushing.

“It’s the best life _I_ could hope for...sometimes I wished I could find out where my birth family is, but my Father....he’s the one I think about when I think of home. I feel like I could dissolve, without having him at a central pillar of my life. Does it sound strange?”

“No, I get what you mean.” More than you know, Kaito thought. But perhaps it was time to let Gakupo know what and who he was...he couldn’t just expect Gakupo to leave his silence behind, without giving something in return.

***

The white house was still mostly empty. They had more than enough money left to do more with the dusty rooms, but it was probably pointless to treat the place as something more than a temporary hiding place. So besides the kitchen, the only rooms truly used to any capacity were the front room with the big window, and a central room with a chimney, where they had their bedding: two mats covered with a mix of old ratty blankets and sheets that were previously on the house and newer, warmer stuff they had bought.

It was in that room, lying near the fire, where Kaito told Gakupo about a boy staring at the sky and laughing as the bumps in the road made his father’s cart jump. A boy that listened enthralled at his mother’s stories, picturing himself as the brave hero...but then turned out to be small and useless when the horrors actually came his way.

Gakupo listened in silence, as he spoke, the blankets covering most of his curled form except for his pale face. But his eyes were intensely fixed in him, glinting with the glow of the chimney...two drops of honey fallen into deep pools of murky green. Kaito found himself looking back at random snatches of his past: his sword lessons with Tane, punctuated with jokes from the other bandits...Mio’s callused hands, running through his hair proudly...himself now older, holding Mine’s thin arms as she took her first steps... There was no direction or purpose to his ramblings, but there he was, taking out his life piece by piece in front of what ostensibly was a stranger...and hoping it was a suitable offering.

After what seemed a long time, he stopped, a little awkwardly. Had he said too much? Would Gakupo be turned off by how insignificant he really was, all things considered? His face gave little insight on what he had thought of all of it.

Then one of Gakupo’s hands came out from under the covers and crossed the small distance between the mats, to touch his own. Without thinking, Kaito took it to his mouth and softly kissed the fingers. He froze then, waiting for Gakupo to pull away...

And the pretty, yet inexpressive mask before him melted into a shy smile, as the hand squeezed his own, just a bit.


	5. Chapter 5

One day, Kaito returned home for lunch to find Gakupo frowning at his own image in a mirror propped against one of walls of his favorite room. A gilded pair of scissors rested on the floor near the kneeling boy next to a comb and some hair ribbons.

“What are you doing?” Kaito asked, curiously.

“Erm...I...I was thinking, maybe you could teach me to defend myself better...so I went to the guild office and asked the representative if he could lend me a sword.”

“...And?”

“And he said that in a fight, long hair would be a hindrance. That if I was serious about this, I’d need to cut it off...But...”

“But you don’t want to do it.” Kaito finished, kneeling next to Gakupo. After a moment Gakupo nodded.

“Hey, I understand. It wouldn’t do for the up and coming star of the Kamui Theater House to return home looking like a freshly plucked chicken.”

“You think I’m vain!” Gakupo accused him, almost pouting. The effect was rather cute, though Kaito was far from an impartial judge.

“Not really. It makes sense for an actor to try to cultivate a distinctive look, doesn’t it? And it would be a shame to lose an asset like this...” Kaito had wanted to touch Gakupo’s hair for a while, and now seized the opportunity. He gleefully sank his hands into the silky tresses framing the artist’s face. Gakupo looked vaguely surprised, but didn’t reject his touch.

“Just braid it when it’s time to practice,” he concluded. Training was a good idea, actually. Kaito needed someone to spar with, or his own skills would get rusty.

“I guess this makes you my new teacher.” Gakupo smiled a little.

“You are making me do all sorts of respectable work.” Kaito smiled back mischievously, and moved his hands to cup Gakupo’s face. His thumbs caressed the skin of Gakupo’s cheeks lightly, but instead of the smile he hoped for, Gakupo suddenly looked tense. Kaito groaned internally.

“If you want a respectable job, when we go back to Bou, you could stay as my bodyguard.” Gakupo blurted out, sounding as if he had been mulling it over for a while, and had jumped at the chance to say the words.

So it was _that_. Kaito observed Gakupo’s expectant face with interest. It was an intriguing idea, of course, despite the fact that the fine officers of Bou had some unfinished business with him. The best part was that the artist himself had brought the possibility up...

But Kaito decided to examine it with more care later, as now he was more preoccupied with the pretty face so near his own.

“That depends on how good the work incentives are.” He said in a seductive tone, as he moved in closer. He could feel the lightest trace of Gakupo’s breath on his skin, their lips almost touching.

Then, Kaito’s stomach growled loudly, demanding attention.

Gakupo blinked, and then busted out laughing. He quickly stood up and escaped the room.

“I’ll...hehe...have s-something ready in a moment, ahaha.”

“Priorities, if you please.” Kaito whispered, looking downwards at his midsection. Then he followed the laughing artist into the kitchen.

Gakupo gave him a quick and amused glance when he entered, and then returned to his work. The meal seemed almost ready, as he had said. Something was marinating in a big pot over the stove, and when Gakupo lifted the lid to inspect it, a delicious smell filled Kaito’s nostrils.

“A pair of bowls, please.”

“Right...Here.” The shelf looked pretty bare, given the meager amount of plates and bowls they needed. Kaito picked two earthenware bowls with blue and purple motifs (pretty appropriate, all things considered), and Gakupo filled them with a thick broth of an intense and dark golden hue with generous chunks of meat floating within. The vegetables were already waiting for them on the table.

“Ah! Ichiro told me that tomorrow afternoon there’s a festival at the central market. There’s going to be all sort of food stalls, games, dancing and even a full troupe performing,” Gakupo said as they sat at the small kitchen table.

“...Who’s Ichiro?”

“The guild representative –Ichiro Sawanobori Morisato, I believe, is his full name.”

“Oh” Kaito looked briefly at Gakupo, while pouring some iced tea into two smaller bowls. He didn’t remember even hearing the guild representative’s first name before.

“He was quite friendly this morning...” Gakupo played with a strand of his hair distractedly. “He said it was a pity I spent so much time cooped up in here, and this was a good chance to have some fun, have some new experiences.”

“Hm.”

“He also said that as his guest I would of course have a seat of honor in the banquet afterwards.”

“How nice of him. What did you say to all of that?” Gakupo evidently wasn’t trying to rile him, but Kaito couldn’t help but let slip some ice into his tone. Gakupo looked at him with puzzlement.

“I...I said I would talk it over with you, but it was pretty likely we’d be there....er....Do you think it’s a bad idea?”

“Are you sure he meant to invite both of us?”

”Of course...I mean, why would I go alone?” Gakupo looked at him, tilting his head.

“Never mind,” Kaito said after a moment. Perhaps he was just over-thinking things, after all. “It does sound quite fun, actually. We shouldn’t miss it,” Kaito smiled slightly. That was enough for Gakupo, who smiled back innocently and began to wonder aloud what kind of show the troupe would present.

***

The hottest hours of midday had passed, and Kaito and Gakupo were now standing in the backyard, swords in hand. Kaito’s was his old trusty short sword, not too elegant but comforting and familiar in his hand. Gakupo’s sword was in contrast a light, slightly curved blade, with an ornate design of a wave in the blade, and sea green jewels incrusted in the handle.

“I still can’t believe he felt confident in lending you that. That sword must cost a fortune!” Kaito shook his head, mentally calculating how much Tomoshiro could give him for loot such as that. Then again, given that the sword was likely a property of the guild, it might’ve already passed through his hands once.

“Ichiro said I needed a good blade to learn properly.” Gakupo shrugged. “It weighs more than the prop weapons we use at the theater, but it feels...like it fits better in my hand, somehow.” He made a series of movements, something more like a dance than actual martial movements. The sword caught the sunlight and glinted in many hues, almost like an opal.

Gakupo moved around the courtyard, evidently following a diligently memorized choreography. Kaito could almost see the invisible opponent, and sense where the “fight” would pause to allow the players to sing a few lines or to say a witty remark. Gakupo even bowed at the end.

“That’s pretty impressive.” Kaito clapped, as he probably was expected to do.

Unfortunately, in real life people didn’t wait for you to say a clever pun. Or to back flip for no reason...Most of Kaito’s fights throughout his life had been messy affairs, short and decidedly poor in terms of swashbuckling. Still, he now knew why Gakupo had survived the battlefield despite the lack of proper military training. What he lacked in muscle mass, he made for in speed and nimbleness. Not all that surprising, considering his talent for dancing. He might’ve been quite the warrior, had he been born in the military class.

In ordinary times, members of the merchant and artist classes were forbidden to take up the learning of fencing and military strategy. Even the wealthiest of families were also denied the possibility of having personal armies or stockpiling of weapons, and had to rely on the patronage of members of the military class to protect their belongings and themselves. For merchants it usually meant presenting endless gifts and loans to their patrons. For performers, it translated in entertaining their sponsors in numerous events and sharing their prestige with them, giving the warriors an aura of culture...and sometimes in gestures of a more intimate nature, if the tales were true.

“That was from a play, wasn’t it?” Gakupo nodded, and climbed with little effort the crates at the back of the bath shack.

“The singular tale of a prince of the seas, Arashi no Meitarou: master of this own destiny and scourge of all the ports from here to Mokurin!” He declared in a singsong voice, and posed dramatically. “Fear my steel, ruffian!”

Kaito laughed wholeheartedly. “Well, come down from there, prince of the seas. I want to do some actual fencing today.”

Gakupo sheathed the sword and sat on the tallest crate. He seemed rather pleased to be looking downwards at Kaito.

“Help me down?”

The bandit obligingly reached upwards, and slowly lowered Gakupo into the circle of his arms. Not that Gakupo couldn’t get down by his own means, but he wasn’t about to complain. It seemed almost strange to Kaito to be able to just stretch out his hands and, only a moment later, be holding Gakupo against him.

They stared at each other in silence for an instant. Then Gakupo looked to a side, awkwardly.

“So...fencing, right?” He said pressing the hairs of the top of his head against his scalp. Naturally, the obstinate strands went back to normal as soon as he stopped messing with them.

“...Eh? Ah. Hm...Maybe we should start with some basic sword forms first.”

He reluctantly dropped his arms to his sides and allowed Gakupo to take a few steps back. Sometimes Gakupo’s moods shifted so quickly he was left reeling, truth be told.

The rest of the afternoon was spent peacefully practicing various routines. Boring but necessary, Kaito conceded.

***

The square in front of the central market had been adorned with many ribbons of different colors, which swayed gently in the evening air. Some hanged from stall to stall, and others from the poles lined at the edges of the square to the balconies and windows of the buildings surrounding the space. There were paper lanterns everywhere, and the many smells of the goods offered floated in the air, mixed with the smell of flowers and the faintest whiff of the sea.

The front of the central market had three doors to it: a big double door that was now closed, and served as backdrop to a makeshift stage, and two smaller doors to the sides. People went in and out of those doors carrying props for the performances, plates filled with food and prizes for the games at the stalls.

Despite his previous enthusiasm, Gakupo looked a bit nervous as he walked down a line of food stalls next to Kaito, pulling down the hood of his cape every few minutes as if he was scared it would vanish at any second, leaving him exposed. Kaito eyed him, his arms full of bags and cartons of different foods he wanted to try, and finished munching on a sweet bean dumpling.

“Relax. Acting like you have some reason to hide is the best way to attract attention.” Gakupo nodded wordlessly, and attempted to look casual. Now that Kaito thought about it, this was the first time in a long while that Gakupo had been among this many strangers. It was only natural for him to be unsettled, he guessed.

“There are many people that don’t seem to be from around here.” Gakupo said a subdued tone.

It was true. They had even spotted a number of foreigners, some tall and pale, others with bronze skins and stocky, powerful bodies. They were likely the crews of ships currently anchored in the bay. Some had blatantly stared at Gakupo and him, likely seeing for the first time descendants of the Spirit People. After one of the darker skinned ones suddenly patted his hair in amazement, making him jump, Gakupo pulled his hood so low it almost touched the tip of his nose.

But that kind of strangers were unlikely to cause any trouble for them. As he chewed on something or another, Kaito kept looking casually around, watching for shifty-looking men, or any familiar faces from the south. The festival was bigger than he expected, and it seemed to attract people from outside Benida. He hoped that the animosity between Ne Irie and Koume had kept any possible visitors from Yu’s stronghold away.

Turning a corner, the pair found a stand selling masks: elegant designs with carefully painted patterns, silly masks with bug eyes and red twisted mouths, masks resembling animals and wood spirits. Gakupo immediately picked one that shone with delicate scales of lilac and green, and after some deliberation, selected a snow fox mask for Kaito.

“I won’t be able to eat wearing that!” The bandit complained, at that moment busy with some green tea sweets. Gakupo actually rolled his eyes at him.

“I don’t think eating so much food of so many different types is a good idea, anyway. You should save that for later.”

“What’s the purpose of holding a festival like this if not to try new dishes?” Kaito said, attempting to sound wise. “Besides, I’m just used to eating whenever I’ve got the chance. Who knows when the next meal will be?”

Gakupo looked at him with a strange expression at this, but said nothing. But then Kaito’s eyes strayed to a point behind him, where he could see in the distance the section of the square devoted to dancing. Interesting...he closed the package of candies, and placed it inside his bag.

“I’ll wear that, if you dance with me.” He pointed at the couples going through the complicated figures of the summer festival dances, and winked.

Gakupo looked at him, his eyes shining with golden light under the lanterns, and nodded. He put on his mask and waited for Kaito to do the same. Then, he silently took Kaito’s hand and led him to the dance floor: a roundish space marked with stone pots filled with flowers and surrounded with tables with people chatting and watching the dancers.

Kaito felt like he was about to jump into a dazzling whirlwind. The light of the lanterns was reflected in the gleam of the silk robes of the dancing figures all around, the ribbons dancing overhead and the mask hiding Gakupo’s face. His own mask added to the feeling of otherworldliness, by narrowing his field of view.

A group of musicians sat at one side, strings and drums creating a light beat, while the dancers stamped their feet on the stones of the square, moving closer together one moment and then sliding backwards, like waves on a beach. A trio of women stood next to the musicians, singing an old tune which meaning had been lost many years before the fall of the empire. Gakupo effortlessly fell into the familiar steps of the dance, popular throughout most of southern Eto, and after a moment’s hesitation, Kaito followed him.

One step into the dance, and he found their bodies fleetingly pressed together. The next moment, they separated, turning in circles. Then they faced each other again, and their hands brushed, slender fingers leaving an impression of heat in Kaito´s palms. As the dance demanded, they parted once more, joining the lines of dancers clapping and twirling. A stanza of the song passed, and they were reunited, and now their hands were tightly intertwined. Gakupo’s hood had fallen backwards at some point during the dance, and now his hair waved around him as they glided together between the other couples. The song built itself towards the climax, and their movements followed, precise and swift. Their arms rose and fell like branches in a gale, and Gakupo’s long robes whipped around his legs. Kaito’s bag of goodies thumped at his side with every small jump, no doubt turning the softer foods into mush, but he was too engaged now in the dance to care.

A turn, and a hand traced a diagonal line across his back. A small laugh. Two steps forward, and now he had the teasing figure caught between his arms again. The violin cried, and they traced an eight in the cobblestones, moving as one. The drum marked the main line of the song, heavy and full, and the artist escaped again, a smile of pure joy in his lips. He pursued him across the floor, cutting his path again and again with quick and bold steps.

Finally a lute and the soft voice of one of the singers drew the song into a close, the last strands of melody a gentle contrast to the vivid chorus. Kaito placed his hands around Gakupo’s waist, and pulled him closer. Gakupo in turn placed his hands in Kaito´s shoulders, the mask obscuring the upper half of his face, but leaving his mouth exposed and smiling. They moved slowly, near the edge of the dancing space.

“Let’s try this again”, Kaito thought, as the final notes of the song played, and lifted one of his hands from Gakupo’s waist. He pulled his mask upwards to rest at the top of his head, and then took Gakupo’s chin softly. The artist closed his eyes and leaned forward, sighting contentedly. Kaito tilted his head, and then finally bridged the final distance between them.

It was as if he had wandered through a desert for millennia, only to unexpectedly find an endless river of the sweetest nectar. The lips pressed against his had easily parted, and Gakupo’s tongue gingerly touched his own. Kaito responded with eagerness, and he explored Gakupo with a hunger that only seemed to grow as the seconds passed. All of his senses were filled to the brim: the taste of the artist’s mouth, his smell, the soft skin of the fingers gripping him, the silky hair caressing his hands as he dived in again and again, his blood rushing inside him, welcoming the body pressed against his...and yet he wanted more and more...he wanted to be lost forever inside of him, for the ache to grow and grow until he could do nothing but scream the artist’s name…

Somebody giggled close by, and a man patted Kaito in the back amicably.  

“Take it outside the dance floor, will ya?” A middle aged man nearby told him good-humoredly. The woman next to him looked at them with great interest.

Gakupo stepped back, blushing furiously under the mask, and Kaito counted mentally to five before turning to reply to the nuisance. Gakupo started walking briskly without even waiting for Kaito, all but running away from the scene.

“Thanks for that, man,” The bandit said curtly, and the man laughed with one hand at the back of his head. Kaito snorted and followed Gakupo, who was surprisingly far already.

“It looks like the play is about to start!” Gakupo said when he reached him, before he could say anything, like proposing to duck into the nearest alley for more privacy. He called his attention to the open space before the central market, where people were beginning to gather.

“...The play? Oh right, sounds fun,” Kaito tried to sound enthusiastic, but Gakupo looked at him shaking his head, his expression unreadable.

“We have all night afterwards,” he whispered, and averted his eyes.      

Now that sounded fun. His good humor restored, Kaito looked around and pointed at a stone bench close enough to the stage to get a good view that was yet unoccupied.

“That looks like a good place to sit. Save the space while I get something to drink.”

“Sure,” Gakupo sat down, looking at the preparations in the stage with professional interest.

There was a stall nearby with a good selection of beverages, some with alcohol, some lacking it, and Kaito spent some moments looking at the colorful canvasses listing the names and prices. Before he could choose though, his nose caught an enticing smell, and he spotted a stall a bit further away with some sort of fried concoctions of meat and vegetables being made.

He could try some of those as well; he mused, and went closer. Actually, he should get two plates –Gakupo had barely eaten anything since they arrived to the festival. After some minutes of waiting, it was his turn, and he handed the seller a couple of coins. He observed the thin circles of dough as the cook filled them with the salty mixture, and then dunk them in boiling oil, his stomach growling in anticipation.

“Kaito! Kaito!” A voice suddenly rang out over the sounds of the festival, and the bandit’s head quickly turned towards the source of the sound.

Gakupo was running in zigzag through the crowd, his face white and anguished. The mask and cape were gone, and one of his sleeves was half-torn and barely hanging from his shoulder. Somewhere behind him, Kaito could barely make out a group of men trailing him, their advance slowed by the waves of people in the way.

Gakupo spotted him, and with an inarticulate cry rushed towards Kaito, almost knocking him backwards when he collided with him under the curious gaze of the people surrounding the stall. He looked at him with wide eyes, seemingly struggling to form words.

“I see them,” Kaito said in a hushed tone. Then he mumbled an apology to the bewildered cook and grabbing Gakupo’s arm, started running towards the closest way out of the square.

“They...they come...he hired them,” Gakupo finally mumbled as they entered the shadows of the narrow side street, barely a steep lane of earth between the backsides of two rows of houses.

Kaito grunted in acknowledgment. It wasn’t necessary to ask who “He” was. This meant the end of their life in Benida, whether they lost the thugs now or not. Their looks were so unusual, that Yu’s men would have no trouble asking around until they found the white house.

All of the sudden, a couple of men jumped out from behind the corner of a house, and stood in their way. One of them brought a whistle to his lips and blew, sending a sharp note through the night. Another responded behind Gakupo and Kaito, and they turned to see more men running down the road.

“It’s them alright! Go tell Akano.” The biggest brute of the bunch, with a bristly beard and arms filled with scars, said to the thug next to him. Kaito vaguely remembered seeing him back at Koume. The smaller man took off running, with a last smirk directed at the pair.

Still grabbing Gakupo’s arm, Kaito backed slowly against the stone wall of a house. Without looking at him, he could felt the artist almost paralyzed with dread. He was briefly incensed at the power Yu had to make Gakupo break down, but then he pushed all extraneous thoughts from his head. He had to be focused for this. With a defiant look on his face, he pulled out his knife, the only weapon they had, with the swords back at the white house.

He had to defeat these men before any reinforcements came, with or without Akano himself. It couldn’t end like this.

 


	6. Chapter 6

A light, chilly breeze began to tug at the folds of Kaito’s cape, giving him goose bumps. A discarded food wrapper from the festival tumbled down the sloped road, on their way towards the now blackened sea.

Narrowing his eyes, Kaito studied the men standing before them, looking for an opening. As it befitted his profession, he didn’t particularly like the violent approach, but was capable of defending himself against others in one-on-one fights just fine. However, there were now five thugs on the street in a semi-circle, and he didn’t expect Gakupo to be of much help, given his lack of experience or weapons.

In any case, Kaito had to attack now while they still had some chance of getting away. Obligingly, one of the smaller thugs launched himself at him, saving Kaito the trouble of choosing an angle of attack. They clashed, the other man’s dagger easily deflected by Kaito’s more skilled hands. Two others rushed to take advantage of the situation, while Kaito was focused on the first thug, but he whirled and moved out of the way with speed born of desperation. He elbowed one of the men in the back, and then ducked to avoid a fist. Uninterested in drawing out the fight, Kaito quickly kicked his second attacker in the groin. The thug doubled over in pain. Kaito heard a barking laugh and noticed that the biggest brute was standing back, looking at the fight with amusement.

The last thug ignored him completely and went for Gakupo, but the young man suddenly snapped out of his paralysis and evaded him.

“No, I’m not going back!” Gakupo shouted, and ran towards some crates piled against the outer wall of the nearest house. The thug ran heavily after him, but only managed to fruitlessly grab ahold of the end of Gakupo’s outer robe, which the artist nimbly shrugged off before climbing the pile. From there, he easily jumped towards the roof of the home, and began looking around. A moment later, he found a loose roof tile and dropped it on the man below. The thug, who had been trying to climb the crates with much less graceful movements, received the blow on this head and fell to the ground dazed. Without even pausing to see the results of his handiwork, Gakupo began to scour for other loose tiles, gathering them at the edge of the roof.

 _Gods, I love him_ , Kaito fleetingly thought with admiration, and concentrated on his own struggle. These men were no trained soldiers, that much was clear. Their attacks were clumsy, relying too much on brute strength. Their poor footing and the sloped, uneven ground meant that the safest thing for him was to dodge their attacks and wait for them to lose balance. It didn’t take long.

The first thug to stumble received a long slash in the gut for his troubles, the second a kick in the back of the knee. For extra indignity, another roof tile landed on the second thug’s back as he tried to get up, and he crumbled. Once the pair were prone on the ground, Kaito turned to the big brute, scowling.

“Lets us pass, now!” He snarled, making a wide gesture with his knife, still dripping with blood.

“You seriously wanna mess with the boss, bluey? That one is his, you know that,” the big guy said. Strangely enough, he seemed pretty relaxed, given the circumstances.

Kaito began to hear faint sounds of feet approaching, their echoes distorted by the broken geometry of Benida’s streets. It made their position hard to determine, but they were certainly getting closer by the minute.

“Tell you something, bluey. Give me all the money you’ve got on you, and I’ll confuse them, give you a head start, eh?” The thug smiled, showing uneven, yellow teeth.

Kaito looked at him, frowning. Why even offer something like that? But he had no time to ponder, the steps were coming nearer. He decided to take his chances.

“Gakupo, come down from there!” He shouted, as he untied his money pouch from his belt and threw to the big guy. The man received it with a curious smile.

“I was young too, once,” he explained, before pocketing the pouch. “Though I’m now just an old fart with expensive tastes. And Akano needs to pay better if he wants results.”

Gakupo approached Kaito with an uncertain look on his face. Without hesitation, Kaito grabbed his hand and dragged the artist with him as he ran down the street. The big thug bent down over his fallen comrades, whether to help them or to silence them, Kaito didn’t know or care.

Benida’s streets looked much less welcoming than they usually did, as they madly rushed to reach the white house. It was a risk to go back, but they would need their things and the rest of the money if they hoped to make a quick escape, especially now that his money pouch was gone. So they turned again and again, crossing the labyrinth of unkempt roads, until finally they were within view of the white house. They paused for a moment at the door, while Kaito fumbled around for the key. All the other houses nearby were dark and quiet, like stern judges watching their every move.

Gakupo was breathing hard, Kaito noticed as he searched his pockets, and he shot the artist a concerned glance. He looked almost as if he was going to pass out, probably from a combination of stress and the sudden exercise of running across town. Kaito felt similarly winded, but in Gakupo’s case it appeared almost as if he was chocking. He lightly touched his upper arm to catch Gakupo’s attention, but the young man flinched and took a step back.

“No-!!” the artist croaked, his eyes wild. It almost seemed like he had forgotten for a minute where he was. After a moment, Gakupo blinked and hugged himself, shivering. “I…Sorry.”

“It’s going to be ok, just give me a second and we’ll be off the street,” Kaito reassured him, though he felt a bit unsettled himself. He decided to focus on the immediate issue at hand, though, and finally found the key a few seconds later. He opened the door. As expected, it was dark inside, but there were some candles right next to door, over a chest. He lit them up, and turned to Gakupo, still standing in the doorway.

“I’ll get some things ready,” he said, grabbing his hand and guiding him inside. “Maybe you should change out of those clothes.”

Kaito picked one of the candles and scoured the rest of the home. It was a real shame, to see this place for the last time under these circumstances. He had come to cherish it, as it was the first place he could call his own home. His and Gakupo’s home, in fact.

With some clothes and food packed, Kaito searched under a loose floor board and retrieved the rest of the money and papers Tomoshiro had given him. He placed the coins into two sacks, then folded the papers carefully and hid them in a secret pocket in his own clothes.

During this time, Gakupo had silently appeared, still white as a ghost, and sat by the packs, watching him. As instructed, he was wearing some sturdy robes, a drab scarf that covered his neck and a dark, warm cape.

“Wear the sword. You’re nowhere near ready for a fight against professional soldiers, but if Akano is relying on goons, I’d say it’s better for you to have it. Only as a last resort, though,” Kaito said, tying his own sword to his side. Gakupo obeyed without comment.

“They won’t catch us, you hear me? We can still win this,” Kaito placed his hands on Gakupo’s shoulders, trying to force him to make eye contact. Instead, Gakupo closed his eyes, but nodded. It would have to do for now.

Without sparing a last glance to what they were leaving behind, each of them strapped a pack to their backs and went out the door.

The house went back to its dusty sleep. The collection of seashells and rocks remained behind, displayed on the window sill of the front room, forgotten and useless.

***  
Aside from the festival up in the square, there are several places in town where people could have smaller celebrations of their own. Next to the docks, there was a winding lane full of taverns and inns where sailors could quench their thirst, gamble, or grab a girl or boy of their liking.

As usual, Gakupo looked a bit out of his element in the muddy, raucous lane, and Kaito himself felt pretty conspicuous as they sorted past the drunkards on the street and the ponds of disgusting liquids. The artist walked with this head down, his arm hooked with Kaito’s, while the bandit tried his best to look menacing and ill-tempered. Not very hard, considering the awful smells coming off every corner.

Three times they entered taverns to speak with the barkeep or one of the serving girls before they stroke gold. One of the patrons in the final tavern was the captain of a ship leaving the following morning, and he was accepting passengers. A barmaid helpfully pointed out to them a huge foreigner with brown hair streaked with white, all the way across the smoky room. They approached him, carefully avoiding the groups of merry drunks singing lewd songs. At least, if their barely coherent voices were any indication, those drunkards wouldn’t remember them come next morning.

The captain watch them walk closer with keen golden eyes, nursing a mug of frothy liquid. His long legs were propped up on the table, leaving barely enough room for the plate of cheese and meat next to his shiny boots, or the drink of the much less impressive man sitting next to him, who had bags under his eyes and messy black hair and stubble.

“Excuse me-” Kaito began cautiously. He wasn’t too used to dealing with foreign sailors directly, much less giants like the man before him.

“What the hell do you want? I’m busy here,” the man drawled. But his eyes betrayed interest, likely because of their unusual looks.

“We’re looking to secure passage out of Benida. We need to depart as soon as possible,” Kaito replied. Foreigners certainly were direct in their speech. It was a useful trait, at least in this particular occasion.

“We be doing a coastal run all the way to Gyuugan. Ten of your big coins for each of you, we drop you in any port you like from here to there,” the captain said with a curiously accented version of the local language, and took another gulp. The other man gave them a smirk.

“I’ll pay you twenty-four total if you let us board immediately, and don’t tell anyone about this, including harbor officials,” Kaito replied boldly. The captain and the other man looked somewhat surprised at this, but the bigger man shrugged after a moment, unconcerned.

“Not a problem. ‘Tis not any of their business, anyway. Show me the money, we make deal.”

Kaito carefully took some money out of his pouch and placed it on the table. The well-worn surface of the coins glowed invitingly under the candlelight. The captain, with an unexpected celerity given the size and weight of this hands, took it and secured inside a pocket of his long coat. “Paying up front, yes?” he asked, though his preference on the matter was quite clear.

“Right.” It didn’t seem like they had a choice.

“Shake on it, then,” the captain presented his hand to Kaito. He silently took it, thinking how easy it world be for the other man to casually crush his fingers with such a grip. “Name’s Alphonse, but everyone calls me Big Al.”

“Kaito.” He didn’t bother to present Gakupo, and aside from interested glances, the sailors seemed to accept that the robed figure wished to remain nameless.

“Fine then. Tonio, get them to the _Sweet Ann_. I still have some drinking to do here,” Big Al said and waved them off. Tonio grimaced but stood up, motioning the pair to follow him.

***

“We barely fit inside of this hovel, standing side by side!” Kaito sputtered indignantly, watching the dimly lit room under the swaying light of the lantern.

“This ain’t a pleasure cruise. You get privacy in here, nice bed. What more you want?” Tonio said, using the same corrupted version of Etodian language his captain demonstrate earlier. He scratched his scruffy jaw, completely unimpressed by Kaito’s outrage.

“For the price your boss was asking, I thought it would have two beds, at the very least.” Kaito rubbed his forehead, feeling like an idiot. It’s not like he didn’t know how to barter, or make deals with people. But he had never travelled by ship before, and was anxious to get off Benida’s streets. He had to admit, it was lucky that the _Sweet Ann_ turned out to be a decent-looking ship, all things considered.

Tonio shrugged, uninterested. He was clearly looking forward to returning to his alcohol.

“You didn’t say. There’s some extra bedding in those drawers,” the sailor explained, pointing to the low rectangular drawers under the bed, “make yourself a floor bed if you need it. See you later, _etodhe_.” Without waiting for an answer, he sauntered towards the ladder leading to the deck. Kaito and Gakupo were left looking puzzled at his retreating back.

“Erm…well, I guess we’ll deal with things as they come, right?” Kaito said, trying to sound confident. He gave the miniature cabin another look.

On the left wall, there was a built-in bed, nestled between drawers of different sizes and a small desk. A stool waited in under the single porthole in the far wall. The right wall was featureless aside from some hooks, presumably to hang clothes or baggage. A red tin lantern hanged from the ceiling, softly wavering as the waves outside rocked the ship gently.

Kaito placed his pack on a corner and prepared himself for what was surely coming. Gakupo was going to insist on him getting the bed, when it was obvious that Gakupo himself needed it more. It was going to take a while to get the young man to accept that fact, in all likelihood.

Completely unaware of what was expected of him, Gakupo entered the room, and after taking off his pack, shoes and most of his clothes aside from his white shirt and short pants, he practically launched himself onto the bed. He curled up facing the wall, without saying a word.

Well, that simplified things.

“Get under the covers, you’re going to get sick,” Kaito said jovially, and kneeled down to examine the contents of the drawers. Gakupo turned to look at him, with a curious expression, before he followed his suggestion.

“Well, at least that man Tonio wasn’t lying about this. I have enough to sleep like a king here,” Kaito commented, looking at the rough, but clean beddings and mats.

“Why? The bed is big enough for the both of us,” Gakupo replied quietly, and returned to his previous position facing the wall.

Kaito closed the drawer in an instant. He quickly took off his cape, jacket and boots, and joined Gakupo in bed, allowing himself a big smile.

Despite Gakupo’s words, it was obvious that the bed was meant for a single person, specially if it was one of those towering foreigners. Kaito happily accepted the so-called inconvenience, pushing against Gakupo’s back and circling his waist with one of his arms.

It wasn’t a bad situation to be in, now that they were ostensibly safe for the moment. Kaito felt himself acutely aware of the feeling of their bodies pressed together. Almost casually, his hand slipped under Gakupo’s shirt and began to trace circles on his stomach and chest.

“I believe you mentioned something about having all night for us?” He mentioned playfully. If nothing else, a little fun could help them unwind.

For a long while, Gakupo didn’t answer. But he was awake, Kaito was sure if it. He sighed inwardly. Despite his vow to be patient, sometimes he had the disagreeable feeling that no matter how close they grew, he was never going to be able to completely understand Gakupo’s mind.

Fine then, sleep it was. He closed his eyes, trying to quench his excitement. And was thus completely unprepared when all of the sudden Gakupo turned towards him, looking at him with a weirdly intense expression. Before Kaito knew what was going on, Gakupo had pushed him on his back and was straddling him.

“Well, well, I can’t complain about this-“ Kaito laughed.

“Please be still for a while,” Gakupo said in a low voice. After a moment he added, “Actually, close your eyes as well.”

“Huh?”

“This- this is hard for me. Please, be still, this one time,” Gakupo said, looking extremely nervous. He placed a hand over this Kaito’s lips. The bandit stared at him for few seconds, confused, before he finally complied and closed his eyes.

Silence, aside from the croaking of the ship, and the relentless song of the tides. And then-

“I like you,” the slightly hoarse voice whispered, in the warm darkness. The weight over him shifted slightly, tantalizing. “This feels right, like the way things should be.”

For an instant, Kaito felt the same giddiness as before, during their kiss, until it partially deflated when the next words reached his ears, thick with worry. “I’m sorry if I disappoint you sometimes. I just don’t know to act ‘normal’ anymore…”

“I don’t care about normal, I care about you!” Kaito replied before remembering he was supposed to be quiet. Despite that, he heard Gakupo draw air, and he felt him squeeze his hand, in what was perhaps meant as a thank-you.

“Gakupo, what’s on your mind? Just tell me.”

But Gakupo stayed silent. Instead, he began to lightly run his fingers on the skin of Kaito’s hand. Slowly, slowly he followed the lines of his palm, as if reading his fortune. Then, he cupped Kaito’s face with his hands, his thumbs caressing his cheeks. A momentary stop on the scar under Kaito’s left eye, and then the hands continued downwards, as if admiring his neck and collarbone. It was a measured, deliberate touch- it almost felt choreographed, as if Gakupo was hiding his very real awkwardness behind a character of some sort.

“Do you think you will forget them one day, your family?” Gakupo asked, keeping his voice carefully neutral. His fingers began to toy with the cords and sash around Kaito’s waist.

Despite Gakupo’s earlier request, Kaito’s eyes flew open at this. He tried to shift into a semi-reclining position, and was rewarded with a disapproving look from the artist.

“I asked you not to move,” the young man reminded him softly.

“What the hell kind of question was that?!” Kaito exclaimed bitterly, surprising even himself. “Like I would ever forget them!”

“I wasn’t implying you _should,_ ” Gakupo replied, recoiling to the far end of the bed. His face was guarded, his tone mollifying. It made Kaito’s stomach drop. If there was one thing he never wanted to happen, is was for Gakupo to be wary _of him_. “I just meant-well, does it ever stop hurting, when bad things happen?” Gakupo continued.

Now, Kaito almost felt like smacking himself for his knee-jerk reaction. “Ugh, I’m sorry…,” he sat himself properly, ruffling his hair, “I don’t know what came over me. It’s too much of an open wound for me, I guess.” He looked downwards, searching for a proper way to express his opinion. “Look, it _never_ stops hurting. Time helps, sure. But the pain never truly goes away. You either learn to tolerate it, or you do something to even things out. Get it?” Gakupo gave him a wary nod, though it was impossible to tell from his face whether he agreed or not.

Kaito sighted, “I thoroughly killed the mood, didn’t I?”

“I was the one to bring up a painful topic,” Gakupo said, looking away.

“And I just asked you to share your thoughts,” Kaito smiled wryly. “So it’s still my fault. Can you forgive me?”

“Of course.” Gakupo blinked, looking more at ease.

“Then come back here, I’m not going to bite you…much.” Kaito wriggled his eyebrows, trying to dispel the uncomfortable mood by clowning around.

Gakupo smiled grudgingly, perhaps debating with himself what to do. He studied Kaito’s face, and after a moment seemed to arrive to a conclusion. He approached the head of the bed, until he was kneeling before Kaito, and placed a hand on his chest, over the heart. The touch was slight, almost insubstantial, but Kaito felt a keen sense of closeness, looking at his bright eyes. As if to capture that sensation, he surrounded Gakupo’s waist with his arms, drawing him even nearer.

Perhaps it was possible to bridge the space between them, after all. Even if perfect understanding was impossible, that didn’t mean their roads couldn’t run side to side. They could find solace, even joy, in each other. Warmth and hunger, a blind need for satisfaction, for closeness, a desire to cherish everything the other had to offer, none of that required long winded explanations, or grandiloquent words.

As if to confirm these thoughts, Gakupo leaned forward and tenderly pressed his lips against Kaito’s. _I’m here_ , the gentle sensation seem to say, _despite the world and everything on it_.

 _And I’m here too_ , Kaito tried to convey as he returned the kiss. _If there’s anything in me that you want, take it._

Gakupo’s right hand was still touching his chest, now trapped between their two bodies. The other hand, however, began to loosen their clothing. Gakupo pulled away slightly, and looked enquiringly at him while pulling at Kaito’s sash.

“Yes,” Kaito said breathlessly. _Take me whole._


	7. Chapter 7

In his dream, Kaito was restlessly wandering the hallways of a great palace. He walked quickly, running his fingers along the delicate mosaics decorating the walls. It was a familiar sensation.

He knew this place and its treasures well, or at least _felt_ like he should know them: the blue stones from the northern mines, the gold offered by the rich coastal towns, the elaborate tapestries…Even the sounds of his footsteps seemed like an echo well-worn by repetition.

Where was everyone? The palace seemed desolate. He felt the void encroaching on him.

Kaito was looking for someone. He felt angered and offended, but more than anything, he felt afraid. Afraid that _he_ wouldn’t keep his promise. No one had ever dared to say no to him, not even that man. But now he was gone, and the great palace seemed dull and meaningless in his absence.

No, he had to be somewhere around here. He wouldn’t dare defy Kaito.

As soon as that thought came about, Kaito felt a tinge of uncertainty. Defy him? It’s not like he had any kind of authority. The palace wavered around him, as he pondered the issue. He looked around, confused, and saw a glimmer of color past an open archway. Relief washed over him, alien but overpowering.

He rushed past the archway, into a courtyard dominated by a large, rectangular garden pond. A figure was sitting on the border, with his feet in the water, facing away from him. It was a man, garbed in luxurious robes of lilac, gold and crimson. A crown of red flowers rested on his head, over his long, loose purple hair.

For a second, Kaito laughed at himself. What was this? Was he dreaming about Gakupo? But there was something really odd about the figure before him that immediately made him put his questions aside.

Perhaps it was more accurate to say that it was something about the air surrounding the figure. It was somewhat hazy, like the simmering air of summer day. It gave the figure a certain air of unreality, like a watery phantom. The man even seemed to blink out of existence at times, for a period of time so small that Kaito couldn’t say for certain it had even happened in the first place.

“Envoy!” Kaito heard himself cry out, and was surprised at the sound of his voice. _It wasn’t quite right_. “Envoy, how dare you!”

The man turned his head just enough to gaze at him with one brilliant eye. Once again, Kaito felt off-kilter, thrown off by a sense of wrongness.

“It seems that I have wronged you in some way. Care to elaborate on my transgression?” The man’s voice was low and calm, barely displaying any sort of emotion.

“You disappeared without saying anything! You promised you’d stay!” How infantile and insecure he sounded…But despite how oddly ashamed it made him feel, Kaito couldn’t stop himself as he continued to berate the man.

The Envoy stood up inside the pond, letting the folds of his robes get soaked, and turned around to fully face him.

It wasn’t Gakupo, and yet it was him. No other person he had ever met had those delicate features and lithe frame, but the man was older and radiated a wild aloofness.  

“I will always return to you, as promised,” the man said coldly.

“Don’t say it so scornfully!” Kaito yelled. He took his head in his hands, confused. Why was he shouting like that? Where was the real Gakupo? What was this strange place?

“Come here,” the man suddenly commanded, looking at him with an unreadable expression.

Kaito stood at the edge of the water, and the man grabbed ahold of his chin. He peered at his face carefully. Their faces were close enough that Kaito should’ve felt his breath on his skin, but he sensed nothing.

“Envoy?” His voice sounded plaintive now, a tone that Kaito didn’t use all that often.

“…Hmm. There’s a long road ahead for us, it seems,” the man mumbled. For the first time, his face softened somewhat. He placed a hand on Kaito’s back, and made him look at the surface of the pond.

The young man reflected in the water was unmistakably Kaito, but at the same time, it wasn’t him. Kaito and the reflection stared at each other, in silent shock.

“Turn back, wandering child,” the man said.

Kaito opened his eyes.

He was laying on his back on a messy bed, in a narrow room. Sunlight came pouring in from the porthole in the wall, but the lantern above was unlit, apparently already spent. The whole room was swaying almost imperceptibly, and he could hear voices above, presumably the crew of the vessel.

Most important of all, Gakupo was on top of him, his head resting on his chest. His hair was spread all around him, caressing Kaito’s throat and shoulders. He was breathing peacefully, still asleep.

“What a strange dream…” Kaito said quietly to himself. He began to run his fingers through Gakupo’s hair, thinking. It seemed to him that lately he was dreaming more often. Or maybe, having dreams that lasted longer in his memory after waking up. But this was the first dream he had ever experienced with this sort of complexity, or that sense of reality. It felt almost as if he had been transported elsewhere, while his body was left behind there in the _Sweet Ann_.

Perhaps it was a side-effect of hanging out with another individual with mixed blood. The Meu Rehn, or Spirit People as his mother used to call them, had many unexplained abilities, that supposedly had been lost due to intermarriage with the people of Eto. Could it be possible for them to still retain some of them, and be unaware of it until now?

Gakupo stirred, interrupting that exciting line of thought. He slowly pulled himself up, enough to look Kaito in the eye, and gave him a sleepy smile. That alone almost made Kaito’s heart burst with happiness.

The kiss he gave him afterwards seriously threatened to finish the job.

“This is a good way to start the day,” Kaito said in one massive understatement, when they finally had to pull away to breathe.

“I feel good,” Gakupo informed him languidly. “It felt good.”

“That’s the general idea,” Kaito replied with a laugh.

“Hmm…” Gakupo nodded slightly, as if that was some kind of sage advice. He shifted position, in order to rest on his side on the mattress, propped on one elbow. He pulled at the covers, already crumpled after the previous night, uncovering Kaito’s body.

“Erm…Did you lose something down there?” Kaito asked jokingly. The air felt nice and cool against his heated skin, and he stretched luxuriously, enjoying the way Gakupo looked at his body.

Not content with just watching, Gakupo ran his fingers lightly down Kaito’s stomach and below, in a complicated pattern, then tracing teasing circles on his thighs. Who would’ve thought it? Now that the dam was broken, Gakupo was taking a much more active role than what Kaito first expected. That made things all the more sweeter, as far as he was concerned.

“Hey in there, you alive?” Unexpectedly, a rough voice shouted outside the door. “Forgot to tell you, Ann serves morning rations now! Grab now or she gets angry!” It was Tonio, most likely. He began to pound the door.

“Yes, yes, we understand! Thank you!” Kaito yelled. The pounding stopped, and they heard his retreating footsteps fade away.

“We never get a moment’s peace, do we?” Kaito shook his head. “But I have to admit, I could use a meal. Let’s go see what they’ve got.” They could spend the rest of the day in bed after that, so there was no need to pass up the chance to eat.

Gakupo gave him a nonplussed look. “I’m not hungry.”

“Come on, you barely ate anything last night!” Kaito scolded him, but he could see it was no use.

“Besides, this ship is full of strangers, I’m not going out there,” Gakupo said. “Even if we can trust the captain, what about the other passengers?”

That was a good point, actually.

“You’re right, stay here. I’ll bring you something back,” Gakupo opened his mouth to protest and Kaito hurriedly added “and you’ll eat as much or as little as you like.”

“…All right,” Gakupo whispered. He turned to lay on his back, almost sulking. Kaito couldn’t help but feel amused.

He got up, and began gathering his clothes from the floor. “I could use a bath right now,” he commented. At the very least, he needed to wipe off the results of the previous night. On a whim, he decided to try a handle on the wall opposite the bed. Looking more attentively, he had discovered that the wall had a section that could be opened. He was rewarded with a small space that housed a mirror, a small basin and a jug held firm in some sort of metal contraption affixed to the wall.

“Not bad at all!” Kaito exclaimed. After some experimentation, he released the jug from the contraption and confirmed it was full of fresh water. He assumed the bottom of the basin lead to a cistern of some sort, or perhaps it connected to the outside of the ship, somehow. Very fancy.

After cleaning himself as much as possible, Kaito got dressed and exited the cabin. It didn’t take him long to find the kitchen. The adjacent room had a couple of long tables, with a few passengers still hunched over bowls of food. Behind the long counter at the far end, there was a formidable-looking woman with blonde hair, surveying the place with confidence. Next to her, a fragile wisp of a boy was perched on the counter, munching on a fruit. His angelic looks were sadly marred by an eyepatch over one eye. The resemblance between the pair marked them as mother and son, though the boy’s remaining eye was golden, instead of blue.

“Good morning, ma’am,” Kaito saluted her politely. The woman nodded, clearly interested in his hair. The child stared at him, completely forgetting about his fruit.

“Excuse me, did I miss breakfast?”

“Ah…no, no, I can get you something. It’s just you?” The woman smiled widely.

“Oh, no, I need food for two. My friend stayed back in our room,” Kaito explained. The woman nodded again, and went to prepare something.

“Your hair is odd,” the boy whispered, while his mother worked.

“I know,” Kaito said, smiling. He had his hood on, but the longer strands still stubbornly peeked out. He definitely needed to buy more dye when they reached another town, preferably enough for him and Gakupo.

“I’m Oliver,” the boy said, stretching out one hand. It looked kind of sticky with fruit juice.

“I’m Kaito,” the bandit tussled the boy’s hair. “I’m guessing she’s Ann?” He jerked his head towards the kitchen.

“Uh-huh,” the boy answered, dropping his hand. He didn’t seem particularly offended that Kaito didn’t shake it. “My daddy’s the captain.”

“I see.”

“He lets me steer sometimes,” Oliver noted proudly.

‘Hopefully not anywhere near the coast’, Kaito thought. “That sounds amazing,” he said instead.

Oliver grinned, more adorably than what was probably legal in the region. Then he launched in an explanation of naval maneuvers completely over Kaito’s head. It didn’t help that it was peppered with words in a foreign language, since Oliver didn’t seem to know the Etodian terms. Kaito contented himself with nodding whenever the boy made a pause.

“Oh my! I can’t remember the last time I saw Oliver speak so much with someone!” Ann re-appeared carrying several small boxes, tied together in two stacks. She placed them on the counter and hugged Oliver, placing a kiss on his forehead.

“He’s weird,” Oliver said, as if that was a proper explanation.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Kaito said good-humoredly.

“Bring the boxes back when you are done with them, yes?” Ann told Kaito. She seemed to have a much better grasp of the language than her husband or Tonio.

“Yes, ma’am.”

After saying goodbye to the two, Kaito decided on a whim to go up to the deck, before returning to the room. He wanted to see where the ship was, in relation to the coast. It wasn’t hard to find a ladder going up, which he climbed carefully to avoid rocking the boxes too much. They looked sturdy, but it was probably a good idea to be cautious.

A couple of minutes later, Kaito was standing by the bulwark, staring in awe at the view before him. He had no idea how beautiful the open sea was, or how vast and profoundly blue the sky could be. It almost made the past feel insignificant, like the dim line of the coast, so far away. With a reckless gesture, he pushed his hood back and allowed the breeze to play with his hair. How blessed were these people, travelling the seas every day! It was a shame that Gakupo was missing the gorgeous spectacle.

Very close by, someone whistled. Kaito turned to the source of the sound, and saw a blonde sailor hanging off some rigging. Without even asking for permission, the man leaned over and ran his free hand through Kaito’s hair.

“Lovely,” he said, and added some words in a foreign language. Despite the language barrier, what he wanted from Kaito was quite clear.

“Ah...thanks, but no,” Kaito shook his head, trying to stop his irritation from showing. Why did people think they could touch his hair so insolently? It happened even more often when he was younger, before he started dyeing it. Not to mention the amount of people, both male and female, that somehow concluded his hair color made him an easy lay. It’s not like he was purposely trying to get anyone’s attention.

The sailor failed to understand (or pretended not to), and dropped off the rigging, trying to corner Kaito against the bulwark. Before Kaito decided to punt him away, he heard a booming voice barking words he couldn’t understand. The blonde sailor scurried off meekly.  

Looking towards the ship’s wheel, he saw the giant silhouette of Big Al, with a cross look on his face.

“Look, I was just admiring the view, I didn’t mean to distract your crew or you,” Kaito said preemptively. He wasn’t keen on having someone that looked like he could throw him overboard with one hand mad at him.

“I know! Leon, stupid man!” Al shouted, pointing at the blonde sailor, who shrank.

Well, at least Big Al wasn’t mad _at him_. In any case, Kaito decided it was time to go back down, before the food completely cooled off. “I’ll let you fellows work in peace, alright?” He hurriedly retreated below.

Gakupo was actually sleeping when he returned. Kaito moved the stool and sat by the bed, perplexed. He opened some of the boxes and began munching on the food inside. It was pretty good.

Well, it had been pretty late when they went to sleep last night, he mused. Or early this morning, whichever fit best. It wasn’t surprising that Gakupo was more exhausted than he let on, given all the things that had happened.  

Now that there was nothing else to distract him, Kaito found himself thinking back to the dream. He studied Gakupo’s placid expression, recalling the strange man’s stern profile. Who was he? He had called him Envoy, and acted like he knew him, but now he was drawing a blank. It nagged at him, the crystal-clear image of the man in his mind, and his cryptic words.

Important city-estates like Ne Irie or Gyuugan had colleges of higher learning, with valued scholars like historians, arcane archivists and physicians. If anyone could tell him about the past and his mysterious ancestors, it was them, if he managed to secure an interview with one. Now that he thought about it, it was curious that he had never bothered to find more about his heritage. Then again, for most of his life, the past had been nothing but half-remembered bedtime stories. Even his hair had been reduced to a simple nuisance, in time.

All in all, perhaps it was a good idea to go to one of the big cities. It would be easier to hide in a place with a large population, for starters.

Before he knew it, his meal boxes were empty. He eyed Gakupo’s portion, innocently waiting over the desk, but managed to resist the temptation. The young man would be starving once he woke up.

So, what now? He could try and strike conversation with someone of the crew or one of the passengers, but Gakupo was right- he didn’t know who amongst them was trustworthy. He looked around the cabin, but there was nothing to occupy his time. Finally, he shrugged and decided to return to bed. Hopefully, Gakupo would wake up in a couple of hours and they could have some more fun.

He quickly undressed and got in, trying not to disturb the sleeping artist. Not an easy task, given how narrow the bed was. But all Gakupo did was grumble in his sleep and turned towards him, using his body as a pillow.

Kaito closed his eyes. He was a bit tired, all things considered. Perhaps he could try sleeping, and maybe even dream about that strange man again. He had never heard of anyone capable of directing their own dreams in such a manner, but Gakupo and he were of an uncommon breed in the first place. So he focused all his thoughts on the Envoy’s figure, and tried to replay his words on his mind. His consciousness began to waver, as the ship rocked him gently.

"I will always return to you," the man had said.

Kaito’s breaths became more steady and slow.

"I will always return to you, as promised."

The world gave away to nothingness, as easily as if tearing a veil.

The man stretched his arms towards him, wearing Gakupo’s loving smile on his face. Kaito ran towards him with an aching heart. But the vision crumbled into a thousand pieces, like a rain of stars.

Kaito slept.

He was back at the great palace, in a long, dark corridor. His regal robes trailed behind him, obtrusive and impractical. But he was used to wearing such finery, since it befitted his status.

The corridor ended on an archway, leading up to the main gardens. He stood under the arch, looking at the flowering trees and bushes, silvery under the night sky.

_Something was about to happen._

He searched the scenery before him with his eyes, until a shooting star fell somewhere beyond the distant hills. And then another. And another. And three more. And ten more. And then there was a sprinkle, a river, a monstrous wave, the whole sky breaking apart and pouring his silvery spirit upon the earth.

'They are here,' he thought.' _He_ is here.'

As if the words had propelled him forward, he found himself, with the celerity of dreams, staring down at the messengers of the fallen stars. He could sense the members of the court gasp as they stared at the five figures kneeling before the raised dais, and the way the very air seemed to twist and glisten around them. The five of them seemed like desert mirages, and the tiles around them shone impossibly with underwater reflections, dancing lines of light that wavered every time the messengers moved.

Four of the figures wore unsettling masks of white porcelain, completely devoid of any features, and dark sashes around their waist, offsetting the delicate layers of softly tinted fabric wrapped around their bodies. They circled the fifth figure closely, guarding him.

The Envoy wore no mask. Instead, red flowers and gold thread joined together to form a crown of soft petals and thin, twinkling roots of metal, resting over his long purple hair. He wore multiple layers of thin embroidered robes, revealing his slim body. The Envoy’s lips curved in a relaxed, enigmatic smile, looking him right in the eye.

Again, the dream shifted, throwing Kaito around like a leaf in a storm. Next he knew, he had the Envoy by the hand, and he was guiding him towards his own room. As soon as the door closed behind him, he forgot any courtesy and just pushed the Envoy towards his bed, tearing at his clothes. The man didn’t resist or encourage him in any way, and barely seemed to believe what was happening, given his expression of polite bewilderment.

There was little room for doubting Kaito’s intentions, though. He took the man’s face in his hands and began to kiss passionately, ignoring his little grunt of protest. Kaito forced his way into his mouth, possessing it more like a conqueror than a lover. He was clumsy and violent in his selfish eagerness, undoubtedly causing the Envoy some discomfort. The man tried to push Kaito away, and his own motion made him trip on a rug and fall face-up on the bed.

They stared at each other, wide-eyed. Kaito wanted to beg for the man’s forgiveness, nauseated at the behavior he couldn’t stop, but no words came forth. Instead, the Kaito that wasn’t him spoke in panicked tones, “I-I’ve never had anyone here that wasn’t mine beforehand! I don’t-I don’t how to handle this!”

What was he saying? What kind of excuse was that, if you could even call it an excuse? Kaito cursed his lack of control of the situation, as he vainly tried to force his body to back away, or his mouth to form words that actually made sense.

The Envoy didn’t reply. He just laid there, exposed in his torn robes, watching Kaito stammer and gesticulate pitifully. His eyes grew distant and unreadable.

“Are you going to leave?” A tinny voice that Kaito barely recognized as his own finally asked.

“We made an agreement, you and I. Would you honor it if I left?” The Envoy asked in a low voice.

Now it was Kaito’s turn to fall silent. The man observed his face, and the cold aloofness Kaito had seen in their first encounter took over his expression. He sat up, examining the ruin of his expensive clothes with distaste.

“I understand. Then, I’ll have to teach you a few things,” he said, disdain clear in his voice.

At once, Kaito felt a wave of relief and happiness that wasn’t his wash over him. It made him sick. He rejected all of it, this dream turned a mockery of his curiosity and desire to see the man again.

 _This isn’t real. This is just a dream, and I’m going to wake up now_. Over and over he repeated those phrases, shutting off everything else. He shouted then, growing more and more desperate.

“Kaito! Kaito! Do you hear me?! It’s alright!” A slightly hoarse voice called out to him, cutting through his turmoil like a well-crafted sword.

Kaito was lying in bed, his limbs interlocked with Gakupo’s. The young man was looking at him with a surprised expression. The artist tentatively caressed his cheek with one hand, concern clear in his eyes.

“It was just a dream,” he whispered.

“Yes…a dream,” Kaito repeated. He hugged Gakupo, and Gakupo hugged him back, just as intensely.

_This is real, and right._

Whatever those strange visions were, Kaito wouldn’t let them sully what he had with Gakupo. He would solve their riddle, lest they hold any power over him. He swore it, as they kissed once more.


	8. Chapter 8

VIII

“Magic?” Gakupo asked in a doubtful tone. He looked around the cabin as he pronounced the word, almost as if he expected someone to appear and laugh at the mention of the ancient powers.

Kaito could relate. As he recalled the visions out loud, it all seemed more and more as a confusing mishmash, a stupid little trick of his own mind. Moreover, he was still very unsettled about how his dream-self had treated the mysterious man called the Envoy. Naturally, he had kept most of the details of that part of the vision to himself.

If Gakupo suspected Kaito was keeping quiet about something, he didn’t show it. He caressed Kaito’s face again, his face set in a worried little smile. “Everyone has vivid dreams sometimes. It’s nothing out of the ordinary.”

“No, no! I’ve never felt anything like it. It has to mean to mean something!” Kaito shook his head. “Maybe the two of us, maybe we have enough power together to access the magic of old- Can you imagine that?”

“I don’t know...” Gakupo tugged a strand of his hair, deep in thought. “Have you ever experienced something that could only be explained by magic?” He asked quietly.

“No, I always believed that it was gone, like everyone says,” Kaito replied.

Gakupo frowned in response, the doubtful expression of before now back in full force. “No? But then…” he trailed off.

After a while, the reason for his silence dawned on Kaito, and he widened his eyes. “You have?!”

Gakupo looked away, clearly apprehensive. “My father told me to keep it secret…”

“I can’t believe it!” Kaito exclaimed, amazed. True, he had never spent any significant amount of time with other mixed bloods, aside from his father, but this was completely unexpected.

“It’s never anything big, or useful to me. I can’t control it in any way, it just happens sometimes when I get upset.” Gakupo exclaimed quickly, then clamped his lips shut, uncomfortable.

“And?” Kaito prompted. “What happens? Come on, tell me!”

“Do you remember when I told you I messed up my first big performance? How after the show was over, I ran back stage to the dressing rooms? I felt so ashamed, I didn’t want to face my father or the others.” Gakupo shook his head with a self-deprecating smile. “Well, the room where I hid had a couple of full-body mirrors, so I just stood there, ranting at my own reflection.”

“At one point, I motioned towards the mirrors.” Raising one arm, the purple-haired youth cut the air in a diagonal motion, “ _and the mirrors shattered_.” Some of the shock he must’ve felt that day reflected on his face, as he stared at nothing, replaying the scene in his mind’s eye.

There was another pause, as Gakupo drew his hand close to his face and examined it, flexing his fingers. “I felt it, I felt myself tearing at the mirrors, even though I never touched them.” He turned his gaze at Kaito, “I’ve never been able to replicate it on purpose, though.”

Kaito took Gakupo’s hands and squeezed them. “And you kept it a secret?! Something like that? We should find a scholar, someone that can help us develop the gift!” The tales of his childhood, and the ideal land they represented, disentangled themselves from the fog of his memories, making him feel like a little boy again. He hugged the artist, the old enthusiasm swelling inside of him.

However, the young man didn’t share his jovial mood. He pulled out of the embrace, and sat on the edge of the bed, looking away. After a moment, he picked up his cape from the floor and covered himself up.

“What is it?” Kaito asked, puzzled. He hadn’t said anything wrong, had he?

“The colleges are state-funded. It means that they respond to each city-estate ruling council, and the military in general. So anything the researchers find can be used in the war efforts, anything.” Gakupo turned to look at him with a serious expression. “Imagine they _did_ find a way to make the ones like us capable of using magic. Would you agree to serve as a weapon for the city-estates to fight each other? Actually, do you think the rulers will give any of us a choice in the matter?”

Kaito gaped, as the innocent thrill withered inside of him. It made sense: the military class already disposed of the common folk like cattle, and the merchants, artists and intellectuals only kept their privileges because of the connections they could secure. If they were provided a new source of weaponry to tilt the scales, he had no doubt the rulers of each region would ensure the ‘cooperation’ of the magic users amongst their population by any means possible. And what if only some of the mixed bloods were capable of mastering the old powers? What would they do to the wash-outs?

“It never occurred to me- I never considered that the colleges were so tightly controlled.” Kaito rubbed his eyes, annoyed at his own ignorance. He scratched his head and continued, “I know little about how city-estates are ruled, really. I’ve always live outside of the cities themselves.”

Gakupo lowered his head, letting his long hair cover his face. “All _I_ know is that I don’t want to go from one cage to another.”

The words stung, especially due to how defeated Gakupo sounded.

Kaito sat by his side, circling the young man’s waist with one arm. “Let’s forget about all of this for now, then. We have more pressing problems, after all.”

Gakupo nodded, covering Kaito’s hand with one of his own. “Where should we go now?”

“Tomoshiro’s guild has an office in Ne Irie, of course. But I’m thinking, the farther we are from the region controlled by Koume, the better. I say we go all the way to Gyuugan. We have enough money still to get settled in, even if the guild has no presence there to help us.”

“Do you know anything about Gyuugan?” Gakupo tilted his head, slightly more cheerful.

“Not really. It’s colder than the southern region, of course, but that’s about it,” Kaito replied.

Gakupo touched his chin, considering the issue. “Nowadays Ne Irie is more important in terms of commerce, but Gyuugan was really relevant in Imperial times, at least after the fifth dynasty,” he explained, no doubt recalling his history lessons back home. “The fur and precious metals imports from overseas were funneled through it, at least the products that originated from the Urt region.”

“Huh,” Kaito commented. Not that minded a bit of education, but it didn’t seem to be of particular relevance to them at the moment.

“There were Meu Rehn settlements along the old highway that connected Gyuugan and the Imperial Capital, the biggest ones up in the mountains. They used to produce fine jewelry for the nobility of the major cities using Urttian metals,” Gakupo added, disproving his preconceptions. “From what I’m told, the ruins of their settlements are well preserved, even after the initial lootings after the fall of the empire. If you really want to investigate the past, maybe we can explore those sites on our own. That is to say, when _he_ stops chasing us.”

But when was _that_ going to happen? Would Yu give up, just like that? It seemed unlikely, if he had bothered to send Akano and his goons all the way to Benida. Kaito vaguely wondered what motivated his actions: Did he felt he had to assert his authority? Or was it some kind of sick obsession?

The purple-haired artist smiled sourly, perhaps pondering the issue himself.

Out of nowhere, Kaito remembered the stack of food boxes over the desk. “Ah, you must be hungry now. Here.” He got up and presented the meal to Gakupo, who eyed it with little enthusiasm.

“It’s good, really!” Kaito exclaimed. Thankfully, it was the sort of things that tasted good even cold, if his own meal was some indication of the contents.

“I imagine so. I don’t feel much appetite lately, that’s all,” Gakupo explained.

“Still, you need to eat. You don’t want to run out of energy at an _inopportune moment_ , do you?” Kaito gestured with his free hand, hoping to make the artist smile.

Gakupo raised his eyebrows, studying him. Slowly, his lips curved upwards, and his cheeks colored slightly. He finally noted with a touch of humor, “I had no idea that travelling by ship could be so exhausting.”

“I hope it doesn’t bother you too much, because you are stuck here with me for a while.” Kaito smiled toothily.

“It doesn’t,” Gakupo retorted with half-lidded eyes. He got up, letting the cape fall to the floor, and embraced Kaito. “It really doesn’t.”

***

Sometime later, there was another knock on the door. Unlike before, this was a light sound which almost failed to catch Kaito’s attention. After a moment, a mild little voice called his name from the other side of the door.

“Sounds like Oliver,” Kaito whispered. “Ah, I forgot about returning the boxes.” He eyed the porthole, deciding it was probably past noon at that point. “One moment, please!” He shouted, and quickly rolled off the bed.

He look around, while pulling up his pants. The boxes that previously contained his food were neatly stacked on the desk. Gakupo’s, on the other hand, were right next to the bed, on the floor. He quickly gathered and piled them, placing them over the stool.

“Hand me my robes, please,” Gakupo whispered, eyeing the door mistrustfully. Kaito gave him the outer robe, and Gakupo quickly dressed with it, foregoing all the layers that usually went below. He sat cross-legged on the bed, tense.

“Kaito?” The childish voice called again.

“Coming!” Kaito smiled at Gakupo as he opened the door, but got no reaction. For his part, he felt too relaxed to share Gakupo’s worries.

“Hello, sorry I’ve made you wait,” he greeted Oliver.

“Hello. My daddy says you’re hiding,” Oliver stated, not bothering to lower his voice. Kaito boggled, then peeked out the door to look at the corridor. There was some movement at the end of the corridor, but he wasn’t sure whether it was crew or passengers, due to the poor lightning conditions. “Hm, come inside, ok?” He placed his hand between Oliver’s shoulder blades and gently pushed the child inside.

Oliver stood in the middle of the tiny cabin, completely at ease. “Hello, you have weird hair too,” he informed Gakupo. The artist just gave him a nod, looking almost comically nervous by his presence.

“Er, what did Al say, exactly?”

Oliver considered the question, staring at Kaito with his single golden eye. “He said you were…ah…I forget the Eto words. He and Mommy were talking in our words.” He stated.

“But, they don’t think we’re bad guys, right?” Kaito prodded him.

Oliver shook his head. “Mommy says it’s cute. Like…love tale, I remember that,” he smiled proudly.

Kaito exhaled, relieved. Like Tomoshiro, they were probably assuming he had convinced Gakupo to run away with him. Not too far from the truth, though dealing with angry parents would’ve been a significant improvement.

“I see, I see.” He tousled Oliver’s hair. “You came for the boxes, right?”

“Yes.” Oliver chewed on a finger, thinking. “Also, Mommy said, if hiding, I can bring food to you, so other passengers don’t see you.”

Kaito blinked. That was a good idea, actually. “I’d appreciate that, yes.” He crouched down to look Oliver in the eye and smiled. “You are all very kind people, thanks.”

Oliver gave him a grin of his own. “We like helping,” he exclaimed. Then, he picked up the boxes and stacked them in one tall tower with ease. “Please open the door.”

After the boy left, Kaito sat on the stool, looking wistfully at the door. “You know…He reminds me a bit of Mine,” he confided. Not to mention, Al and Ann were a bit like Tane and Mio, if his first impressions were correct.

“That was the little girl in your band, wasn’t she?” Gakupo asked gently, from his spot on the edge of the bed.

“One and the same. She was such a bright kid, would’ve done great at a fancy school if we had any way to send her to one,” Kaito replied. And yet her life had ended so worthlessly.

 _No,_ _focus on the good memories,_ he ordered himself _, do_ not _think of the last time you saw her._

 _“_ Mine really liked me, for whatever reason. She followed me around like a puppy.” Kaito smiled wryly. “I guess it would’ve been different if had friends her age, other little girls, but I enjoyed her company nonetheless.” He closed his eyes, lost in the past.

“You seem to be good with children,” Gakupo pointed out. “I always find it hard to speak to them, myself. I never know what to say.”

“Haha, it’s not _that_ complicated,” Kaito said, amused. “At least with children, you always know where you stand.”

Gakupo didn’t look too convinced, but shrugged. “If you say so.”

“Not too keen on being a father, I take it?” Given how often artists selected an adopted child to be their successor, it probably wasn’t too high on Gakupo’s list of priorities.

Kaito’s guess was immediately confirmed with a shrug. “I’ve never really thought about it,” Gakupo admitted.

“Well, believe or not, I’d like to have kids of my own, someday.”

Gakupo raised an eyebrow. “You intend to raise them as outlaws?”

“Oh, no, no, I plan on settling down first, of course. And get an actual job.” Kaito rubbed his chin, theatrically. “Actually, I seem to recall someone offered me a position as a bodyguard, a while back.” He winked at Gakupo. “Will I need to call you Master, if I take the job? Master Gakupo, sounds good to you?”

The young man startled, then averted his eyes. “I didn’t mean to look down on you. It was- it was a way to get you to stay with me, after all of this is over.” He looked disproportionally upset, considering it had been nothing but a glib remark. Strange.

Kaito kneeled in front of Gakupo, resting his forearms and head on the artist’s lap. “I was just joking, you know?”

Gakupo stayed silent, but his hands lightly touched Kaito’s head.

“If you want me to be serious, there’s one thing I need to say.” Kaito exhaled, taking his time. On some level, he knew that this moment would be a turning point in this life, just like when he first laid eyes on Gakupo, and he wanted to savor it.

“I love you.” Gakupo turned to look at him, wide-eyed. “Gods willing, I’ll be by your side, as your bodyguard, as your companion, as your _slave_ if you will it. I’ll feel richer than an emperor if it means sharing your life every day, for as long as I draw breath.”

As slowly as the sun coming out from behind the clouds, he saw Gakupo’s face lit up, an eloquent answer on itself. “I never expected it to be like this,” the artist uttered, his eyes glinting. He leaned forward and kissed the top of Kaito’s head reverently. “That things could turn around so completely.”

“Back in that place, I was beyond hope, beyond even rational thought. I just woke up each day, and did what was expected of me, like a marionette. I almost feared seeing my Father again, or meeting anyone of our troupe….I was so convinced they would take one look at me and _see_ what I was forced to become. And then _, you came to me_. You looked at me, and it never made me feel like I was soiled.”

“You’re not!” Kaito shouted, incredulous. He tried to move, but Gakupo rested his cheek on the top of his head and circled him with his arms, keeping him in place.

“Perhaps, but I _am_ broken,” Gakupo replied with the thinnest thread of a voice. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be the same I was before, or even if that person ever existed in the first place. Perhaps it _is_ my place to be huddling in the ground like an animal, afraid of the lash. He almost convinced me of it, for a while.”

“But then you took me away, and gave me back the world.” The hoarse voice grew warmer with every sound. “Now, I want to go back to the theater, and hear the roaring applause after each performance, and see everyone smile. I want my Father to nod and say how proud he is of me. And…and I want to go home and sleep in your arms each night.”

How glorious existence could be at times. Kaito had met Gakupo, and that enough was a miracle in this run-down land. And that chance encounter gave birth to so many wonders. They had laughed together, and share stories, and enjoyed each other’s company. They had danced and trained. And only yesterday, they had kissed and clung to one another, singing a song that belonged to them alone.

The prospect of a lifetime together was enough to leave Kaito breathless. To walk hand in hand under the flowering trees or the winter’s snow, to talk endlessly or to be silent, in a place where he would be bursting at the seams with joy and passion, until death claimed him.

Gakupo finally released his hold on him, and Kaito took the opportunity to climb up the bed, pinning the artist under him. Gakupo gave out a little laugh, gazing up at him with so much unrestrained affection that Kaito felt dizzy. He needed him, right then and there.

Kaito pushed aside the purple robes, and kissed Gakupo’s chest. His lips and tongue traced their way from Gakupo’s heart, to his collarbone, all over his chest, as Kaito secretly hoped to mark his skin as his, to claim his moans and his scent. His hands travelled below, and worked to bring them both closer to a frenzy.

Gakupo’s fingers travelled down Kaito’s back, exploratory and unhurried. But then they joined Kaito’s hands, suddenly purposeful. It was clear than he had some definite ideas of what he wanted, and how he wanted it to happen. It was Kaito’s turn to laugh quietly, hiding his face in the curve of Gakupo’s neck.

One of Gakupo’s determined hands pulled at him, bringing their faces closer for a kiss. The blue-haired man surrendered gladly to the sweet touch, like a golden fruit melting in his mouth. Their tongues circled one another without rest, as the pressure inside Kaito increased wildly. More and more, he was the one melting under the searing touch, as the moments stretched, inexorably bringing him closer to the end.

How long had it been? It suddenly felt to Kaito as if he floating outside of time, nothing else but him and Gakupo, entangled and feverish. But then he snapped back into himself, into the moment, crying out his lover’s name, and grunting with abandon. Before his mind completely muddled, a single thought rose to the forefront. This embrace, it had happened before, and it would happen again. It was as certain as the pleasure he felt every time their skins pressed together. He contemplated this briefly, before tossing himself like a leaf into the whirlwind, and then everything was engulfed in light.


	9. Chapter 9

IX

The rest of the trip was uneventful, if one could describe the happiest days Kaito had ever lived with that moniker. From morning to evening, there was little to do besides cuddling in bed, trading stories in hushed voices, or making love. Little more was necessary.

After some coercing, Gakupo agreed to leave the cabin at night, to stretch their limbs on deck. For Kaito, it was wonderful to walk around, or even sit by the bulwark, in the huge darkness that encompassed sea and sky. Out there, there was nothing but the creaking ship, and the heat of a hand in his, that stolen treasure he was willing to risk everything for.

As they neared Gyuugan, the weather slowly worsened. At one point, the _Sweet Ann_ had no choice but to wait moored in a small bay, as the storm raged around it. The high cliffs around it looked menacing, all black aside from the fires that betrayed the position of the few homes of the village. The crooked little buildings were perched wherever the rock consented to give a little space to the fishermen and traders that lived there.        

Kaito and Gakupo stayed on board, uninterested in showing themselves on land. From the sounds of it, the single building that served as inn and tavern was full, in any case. But others were all too happy to see what the services of the town offered, in particular the perpetually thirsty crew.

After a couple of days, the skies finally cleared, replacing the rain with deep cold. It looked like the flimsy outfits they wore in the south weren’t going to be enough, once they reached the city-estate. Kaito made a mental note to buy a couple of fur-lined coats and boots at the first opportunity they had.

Going out at night was out of the question, by the time Gyuugan came into view. It was a grey, imposing town of cut stone, full of remainders of the long-gone empire. Not only preserved buildings, which was impressive enough, but large statues that gazed upon the sea with severe expressions, warding off the demons of the deep with tridents tall as trees.

As it approach the docks, the _Sweet Ann_ passed under the arches of a massive bridge, connecting the city fort with the old lighthouse, perched by itself on a rocky island. Unfortunately, the top of the lighthouse was collapsed, and apparently no one had ever thought that repairing such a massive work of art was worth the trouble. Instead, fires sat here and there on the coastline as modest replacements.

Saying goodbye to Oliver, Al and Ann, and even the crew, was more bittersweet than what Kaito expected. He had grown to enjoy his little talks with Oliver, whenever he came by with their meals. Not only that, his initial impression about his parents and friends had only become stronger in time, with how much they reminded him of his old band. At least now, he could wave off at them, with a sincere smile on his face, and wish them good luck.

Once on land, and after a little bribe to speed up the entry permit, the first step was to find a decent inn. Pulling down their hoods, they joined the torrent of people walking all around, most dressed in grey or dirty white, like the city itself.

The pair found an unassuming but clean place near the alchemist’s lane, and Kaito set out to buy dye and clothes for them both.

The dye was easy enough to find, although the store owner seemed to take it almost as a personal insult that Kaito would want to dye his hair. “Such a waste,” he kept grumbling, even as he received his coins. _Just think of what he would say, if he knew what I’m planning to do to Gakupo’s hair_ , Kaito thought amusedly.

Once that was done, Kaito went west, crossing one of the main avenues of Gyuugan to reach the clothing stores. He was more than happy to trade his dark blue outfit for a heavy coat and hood, and a woolen scarf. His new boots smashed the frosted stones under his feet quite satisfactorily.

Kaito stood outside in the busy street, his mood almost jubilant now that he didn’t feel quite as frozen solid. He looked to the right, pondering. At the end of the lane, there seemed to be a square of some sort, with more big statues. It was the opposite way of the inn, though.

He pictured Gakupo rolled into a ball, under a pile of every single blanket and piece of clothing they owned, teeth chattering. The cartoony image made him laugh. The inn wasn’t nearly as cold as the outside, it wouldn’t hurt to take a look at the stone figures before he returned.

The spectacle didn’t disappoint. There were four behemoths, presumably at the cardinal points, and smaller figures between them, forming a wide circle. The smaller statues were humanoid, and when Kaito approached one to observe it, he discovered, after laboriously reading the inscription at its feet, that it represented an emperor of the seventh dynasty. He looked around once more, marveling at the years and years represented here in cold stone. It was nothing short of amazing that the denizens of Gyuugan could walk around between these marvels and look bored.

Almost opposite to where he was standing, Kaito noticed a bare pedestal surrounded by candles. He approached it, feeling strangely attracted by its presence. Soon, it became clear why the figure was missing.

There was a single word on the pedestal, and it was all that Kaito needed. Ao, the common name of the last emperor, was etched there. The mad youth that died many years before, in the revolt of the eastern provinces, now the most powerful of the city-estates, Danzaku Ama. Almost every depiction of Ao had been destroyed during the first years after the empire dissolved, and the war that followed.

It was strange to see all those lit candles, and think that someone still cared enough to show respect. Not to mention, the figure of the last emperor was quite divisive, even now. Some argued that the emperor had single-handedly ruined Eto with his eccentricities, until the provinces were forced to act. Others claimed that this act of rebellion had caused Eto to fall from its place as the center of the world, into the war-torn, backwards place it was now. That the strife they suffered was the punishment of the imperial gods, for trying to go against the will of heaven.

“What could you possibly have done to piss so much people up?” Kaito asked in a low tone. His mother had never enjoyed talking about that particular period of history, so he had only the vaguest of ideas. As far as he knew, Ao preferred to spend his days deep inside the palace, wasting his days away with his favorite courtesan and letting the provinces grow unruly. But that hardly justified the way he had died, or the death of the empire itself. Kaito shook his head, and looked at the darkening sky. It was time to go back.

As soon as he crossed eyes with the inn’s owner, huddled behind his counter, Kaito knew something was wrong. He ran up, making the wooden stairs creak. In two strides, he was before the door of their room. It was ajar. He pushed it and entered, walking almost mechanically.

Kaito stood in the middle of the room, the cold of the street nothing compared to what he felt inside. He examined the space, unblinking. A black and red hair ribbon was over the bed, next to a comb. Their bags were still where they set them, on a corner of the room, seemingly undisturbed, but there were clear signs of a struggle everywhere else. There was a small oily spot in the middle of the room, and dirty boot marks all over. Kaito examined the oily substance with a frown. It gave out a strange, strong smell, and he felt his head ache just by being close to it. He pulled back, nauseated.

Finally, he noticed a small folded paper over the box that served as a nightstand. He examined it, finding it was a map of some sort. Gyuugan’s shore was detailed in careful strokes, with a particular stretch of beach marked with a cross. Come here, said in stilted, careful calligraphy. He knew the owner of the handwriting. Akano had been in there.

Kaito ran back down, after slamming the door behind him, leaving everything where it lay. He grabbed the owner by the front of his coat, looking at him with such fury that the man shrunk back, yelping. “How many?! How long ago?!”

“Ahh, please don’t! I haven’t done anything!” The man was almost weeping, trying in vain to pry Kaito’s hands from him.

“Answer me!!”

“Three, it was three! Two huge fellows, and the little mousy one. They came here as soon as you left, they said that lad was a runaway from an important house. They just wanted to talk some reason into him!”

“And you let them into the room, didn’t you?!” Kaito felt a strong urge to punch the man, but he knew it was pointless. He settled for a shove, before he set out running towards the beach.

‘As soon as he left’, the man had said. How was that possible? Had they been waiting for their arrival? Did someone from the ship sent a message warning Akano of their destination? If that was the case, when and who was it?

It didn’t really matter, in any case. They had Gakupo, and wanted to settle the score with him. That much was obvious. In a detached manner, he wondered whether it was Yu, or Akano himself that wanted to punish him. He was walking right into whatever they had planned, alone and unprepared. He felt the dye bottles jingling inside his bag, and an idea quickly formed inside his mind. He decided to make a quick detour.

***

In that grey land, a sunset on the beach wasn’t all that impressive, even if Kaito had been in the mood. Instead of the sky, he focused his eyes on the menacing cliffs, full of gaping, mysterious holes. Most of the activity of Gyuugan was behind him, though perhaps someone aboard one of the ships moored on the bay would be able to spot him, if they chanced to look this way.

Akano and two enormous thugs came walking out from one of the caves, as casually as if they were going out for a stroll. Between the thugs, Gakupo sometimes walked, and sometimes was dragged by them. His loose hair hid his expression, but there was something unnatural in the way he moved, hunched and wobbly. Behind the foursome, a group of men armed with crossbows followed, already aiming at Kaito with their weapons. He paid them no mind, his attention captured by the artist’s erratic movements.

“That’s close enough, thank you.” Akano adjusted his coat, clearly discomfited by the cold.

“What’s wrong with him?!” Kaito shouted, not bothering to hide his anguish.

Akano pulled a bottle from one of his pockets, and examined the label with fake interest. “There’s a lot of useful potions one can buy, when money is no object.” He examined Gakupo, his mouth twisted with a hateful snarl. “Pet, look up. We have a visitor.”

Gakupo straightened somewhat, looking at Kaito blankly. His pupils were incredibly dilated, with almost no trace of the iris left. One side of his face was bathed in blood, from a nasty cut on his forehead, near the hairline. He gave no sign that he even knew who Kaito was.

“Much more civilized than chains, if you ask me,” Akano said approvingly. Then he turned his eyes to Kaito, and his frown deepened. “This is all your fault. Why did you have to appear in front of me and mess everything up? And not only that, now I have to go back empty handed, and tell my Master what you did to his little pet.”

_What?_

Akano waved his hand, and to Kaito’s horror, one of the brutes smashed his club against the back of Gakupo’s head. The artist fell to the ground, unmoving. Only belatedly Kaito recognized the thug as the one from Benida, when he gave him a yellowish, almost apologetic smile.

Akano barked some orders to his men, but Kaito barely registered his voice. All he saw or cared about was the beloved figure lying on the sand, bleeding. With a horrifying shout, he draw his sword with one hand, and pulled out the first of his own surprises from his pocket, a potent smoke bomb. He threw it in the thick in the men with the crossbows, and followed with a nasty brew that exploded in flames on contact with the ground, before rolling out of the way of an attack from the big thug. Akano watched him mesmerized, not caring one bit about the screams of his men, or the possibility of injury.

Kaito had never fought opponents as powerful as the two giants before him. Under normal circumstances, he certainly would’ve fled from such a fight. But now, there was no reason to run. He was tired of leaving the people he loved behind. There was no point in saving his own miserable skin while others burned. If he ended up as another corpse on the sand, so be it.

Afterwards, Kaito could never properly explain what happened next. All he knew is that he used everything he had, feinting and stabbing and throwing expensive potions around as if they were water, as the world whirled around him. Strangely disconnected images where all that remained: Akano watching him fight with a covetous expression, a crowd of onlookers aboard a nearby ship, the horrid face of the old thug as he fell to the ground, Kaito’s sword protruding from his chest.

An eternity after, Kaito stood tiredly, covered in blood, in front of Akano. There were guards coming along the beach, no doubt warned by the people on the ship. Everyone else was flat on the ground.

“You are so beautiful…” Akano mouthed. He looked transfixed at the dagger in Kaito’s hand, nodding eagerly. “Yes, I want it to be you! It has to be like this!”

Kaito didn’t understand, nor did he care. He felt so exhausted and cold. He barely noticed it when Akano took his hand and guided the knife into his own gut, and then clung to him, the dagger burrowing deeper and deeper into his belly.

“Kaito…” Akano struggled to say. Any further words were drowned by the blood coming out of his mouth. Kaito pushed him aside, and the sallow man crumbled on the ground, stretching his hands towards the former bandit until he moved no more.

Kaito sank to his knees next to Gakupo’s body. He could vaguely hear the guards approaching, calling him a murderer. It didn’t matter.

He examined the back of Gakupo’s head. His fingers brushed the swelling bump, and suddenly Gakupo groaned.

Kaito’s head cleared immediately. Gakupo was still alive! Kaito tried to pick him up, but a furious bolt of pain shot through him, radiating from his side. Gakupo slid back into the sand, moaning pitifully as his head bumped against the ground.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Kaito apologized, almost breaking down in tears. He felt his side, and chocked back a scream. Still, he had no time to waste. Biting his lower lip until he drew blood, he maneuvered Gakupo until he was safely on his back, and rose to his feet, reeling with pain. He set off as quickly as Gakupo’s weight and his own injuries allowed, ignoring the guards’ commands.

Never in his life had an escape been so desperate. Gakupo’s arms felt like ice around his neck, and Kaito cursed himself for leaving the other coat behind at the inn. He couldn’t stop and give Gakupo his own coat, given how close the guards were. And even he felt increasingly cold and heavy, probably due to blood loss. So he kept on running and turning corners, hoping he wasn’t condemning them both to death for exposure in the dark streets.

After a right turn, Kaito found himself next to a channel, crossed by multiple narrow bridges. On each side, handsome houses with well-kept gardens spoke of peaceful families and prosperous businesses. Kaito observed that there was a stretch of land on each side, between the icy waters of the river and the walls of the channel. Without giving himself time to think, he descended the nearest stairs and hid under one the bridges.

He waited. Gakupo’s labored breathing and his own huffing and puffing seemed overly loud, next to the quiet murmur of the stream. Up above, the sounds of the guards came dangerously close, but then descended into nothingness. They were alone.

There was little reason to be happy, though. Kaito resumed walking alongside the stream, but his head swirled. He had no idea of what to do. He needed to get Gakupo to a healer, obviously. But he had no money left. He was willing to guess Gakupo’s money pouch was gone as well, without even checking. And even if a healer was gracious enough to work for free, Kaito was surely going to end up in jail, after the business on the beach.

Up ahead, he saw a house was decorated with paper lanterns and candles. Melodious music floated in the air, and Kaito heard the vaguest echoes of lively conversation.

Suddenly, he was overcome with intense loathing of himself. What was he even thinking? Of course he had to surrender to the guards! They would get Gakupo to a healer, as soon as they took a look at him and realized that he belonged to a good family. What did it matter what happened later?

Kaito reached the ladder right in front of the house with the party, and began to climb, morosely. Once he revealed his presence, everything would be fine. Gakupo would be safe.

The property reached the very edge of the channel. The stone landing of the stairs was surrounded on all sides by a merrily-painted fence, clearly the artistic endeavors of a child.

The likely author of the paint job was sitting on a little bench right next to the door on the fence, preparing yet another paper lantern. It was a little girl with dark hair in pigtails, almost drowning in a puffy red coat and hood. She looked at Kaito and Gakupo with wide, innocent eyes.

“Sensei, sensei! Come here, quick!” she shouted.

Almost immediately, a figure wearing elegant dark robes came running from the back of the house. “Yuki, what’s wrong?!” A couple of servants came after him. The trio stopped and gasped at the sight of blood, but the man recovered quickly and took Yuki by the hand, pulling her away from Kaito and Gakupo.

“Please, I need help, I-“ Kaito began, before the man in dark robes shushed him.

“Keep calm, it’s going to be alright.” The man pulled up his glasses and turned to the servants. “Kayo, take Yuki back into the house and get Goro. Ah, and bring some blankets. Daisuke, help me.” The man and Daisuke grabbed Gakupo and laid him on the bench. The man examined him with the obvious skill of a professional.

 _Thank you, gods._ Kaito smiled in relief and slipped to the ground. His eyes closed, finally giving in to the cold. From far away, he heard Kayo and Yuki screamed in alarm.


	10. Chapter 10

X

Tall stucco walls surrounded the small garden before Kaito’s eyes on three sides. The back of the house served as a final wall of sorts, with its wide open corridor and wood columns. The garden was completely shut off from the rest of the world, aside from a narrow passage between the house and the wall on his right.

The garden was dominated by a trio of flowering trees, reflected on a small pond. A narrow path circled it, lined with colorful flowers. Those flowers would’ve never grown together naturally: they had been brought with great expense from different provinces, and even the archipelago. Their strong perfumes jumbled together with the more subdued aroma of the pink blossoms above in an invigorating mix.  

The air was calm and warm, without being overbearingly hot. Only here and there a petal fluttered down, breaking the perfect surface of the waters below. Kaito knew, somehow, that this home was in the very center of the empire, and yet it seemed as remote and tranquil as a monk’s retreat.

For the longest time, Kaito was content to lay there without moving, just observing the scenery. The wooden floor of the corridor was smooth under his hand, and contrasted prettily with the luxurious robes that laid at the edge of his vision. A hand rested on his shoulder, and it was obvious that his head was resting in someone’s lap, someone that made the very air around him shimmer.

“I feel honored that you enjoy my company, but you must go back and make a decision. You need to be firm.” The deep voice of the Envoy filled Kaito with both longing and dread. He didn’t want a repeat of the last time, to see himself act so shamelessly, without even being capable of saying how sorry he was. He was so preoccupied with his worries that he barely noticed what the Envoy was saying.

“No matter what I do, no one is ever happy with what I choose.” The Kaito that wasn’t Kaito grumbled.

“Nevertheless, you need to act.”

“I’ve never even visited the eastern provinces. Shouldn’t I let the ministers handle it themselves? Most of them served under my uncle, they are much more experienced than me.” The eastern provinces? Ministers? _It couldn’t be…_

With all his might, Kaito fought to move the body of this other self, to look the Envoy in the eye, and ask him the truth. But he couldn’t budge despite his intense efforts.

“Child, only you can make the final choice. That is your duty.”

Kaito sighed. “Why do you insist on calling me a child? I’m of age now, and you don’t look _that_ old.”

Above him, the Envoy let out a low chuckle. It was such a novel thing to hear him laugh that the Kaito of the dream turned face-up to stare at him.

The Envoy met his gaze, betraying surprise for a moment. Then, he smiled calmly. It was like a glint coming from a dark, deep pool, and it filled Kaito with a joy that was both his and foreign.

_Tell me where I am, and how I got here,_ Kaito tried to convey. _Is this the past? Please, I need to know what’s happening!_ But once again, the body that trapped him didn’t comply with his commands. The Envoy watched him, his smile widening.

“Don’t overexert yourself _, child_.” The Envoy brushed Kaito’s bangs to a side. “And don’t despair. _This needs to happen_.” His slender fingers closed Kaito’s eyelids, and remained there, cool against his skin.

Little by little, he slipped away from Kaito, together with the scent of the flowers and the warm air. Kaito fell back into the cold darkness, numbed. His thoughts slowed down and dispersed.

Just as gradually, his fragmented senses returned. His body felt stiff and his side throbbed with dull pain. Kaito dazedly tried to touch his wound, and then opened his eyes, abruptly brought into full consciousness.

He was tied up, strapped to a comfortable, stout bed. His arms were completely rendered immobile with thick leather straps. Under the thick covers, his legs suffered the same treatment.

Kaito took a look around nervously. The room was small, a neat white cube with two beds and a nightstand. Between the beds, a narrow slit in the wall served as a window, letting in sunlight and fresh air. The doorway on the opposite side was wide open, but lead to a narrow corridor and gave him no indication to where he was. Next to it, hanging from a hook on the wall, his trusty old bag waited for him. It was the only belonging he had left, it seemed. Even his clothes were gone, replaced by a white shin-length tunic.

He turned his attention to the other bed. Gakupo was lying face-down on it, and his head was wrapped with gauze. His upper body was propped up with a couple of fat pillows; Kaito briefly wondered if it had anything to do with his injury. Thankfully, he appeared to be untied, if the pale hand sticking out of the colorful quilt was any indication.

“Gakupo! Gakupo, are you awake?” Kaito hissed. Instantly, like a toy springing up from a box, the little girl from the garden jumped up into view. She had been sitting on the floor drawing next to the end of his bed, and still had a pencil in her hand.

“Shhh! He needs to rest!” Yuki admonished Kaito, as severely as her cute appearance allowed. She was wearing a white outfit with red details, some kind of healer’s uniform.

“Sorry,” Kaito apologized, casting a worried glance at Gakupo. Had the drug that Akano gave him worn off, at least? The question lead him to wonder how long had it been since he passed out. He felt completely rested, which meant as a minimum a full night’s rest. The light coming from outside strengthened that notion.

Kaito then turned to study Yuki. Was this house a private clinic of some sort? It was a remarkable coincidence, if that was the case. And the healer and his helpers had seen fit to treat them both, instead of turning him to the authorities. Perhaps they could be reasoned with, if he tread carefully. They obviously didn’t trust him, but they were confident enough to leave a little girl like Yuki with them unsupervised.

“Say…Yuki, right? Look, I feel really stiff. Can you loosen these a bit?” He grinned cheerfully.

Yuki shook her head. “Sensei wants to speak with you first, before they come off,” she said.

“That’s understandable. By the way, my name is Kaito. I’m sorry for ruining your party.” Kaito maintained his tone light, to keep the child at ease.

“It’s fine. Most of the guests weren’t even here yet,” Yuki replied, unconcerned.

“I see. So, is your sensei around? I’d like to ask about how Gakupo is doing.” He pointed to the artist with his chin.

Yuki gave Gakupo an appreciative look before replying, “He’s really pretty. I wish my hair looked like that.” She tugged one of her pigtails. “Sensei is out visiting patients. He’ll be back for lunch.”

Immediately after hearing the word, Kaito’s stomach decided it was time to remind the world of its presence. Yuki giggled in response.

“Kayo and Goro are preparing it right now. Just wait a bit.”

“How about some water, then. Or tea? My throat is parched,” Kaito enquired.

“I’ll go see what we have.” Yuki picked up her art supplies and skipped away though the open doorway.

Kaito rested his head back on the pillow, sighing. Now in the daylight, the thought of what awaited him in the hands of the law couldn’t be so easily dismissed. True, revealing himself to these people had probably saved Gakupo’s life, but he wanted to be part of said life in the first place. And while he counted it as self-defense, there were several injured and dead men on the beach after the fight. All those crimes were going to be blamed on him, no doubt about it.

“It was worth it,” he whispered, turning to look at the shining mop of purple hair. To his surprise, Gakupo stirred, turning his head enough to look at him with an unexpressive eye, framed by his bangs.

“How do you feel?” Kaito asked anxiously. Gakupo’s pupil looked normal, given the light of the room, but something in the way the artist looked at him seemed off.

The eye stared at him for an uncomfortably long time before Gakupo slowly propped himself on one arm, while touching his head with the other. He looked around the room, carefully observing every corner with measured movements. Only after he completed this task did he return his gaze to Kaito.

“Your looks fit your name even better now,” Gakupo observed calmly.

“Huh?”

“Ah, my apologies. It’s not your name anymore, isn’t it? What do you call yourself these days?”

The blue-haired man felt his blood freeze in his veins. _What had Akano and his goons done to Gakupo?_ “It’s Kaito! Kaito! _”_

Gakupo got up with the same preternatural calmness, and stood by Kaito’s bed. His fingers lightly touched the leather straps keeping his left arm in place, and his lips curved in a curious smile.

“This would’ve come in handy when we first met. You were quite the brat back then.”

“Gakupo, please…” Kaito trailed off. With dread, he realized that he had no idea of what to say to bring him back to his senses.

“Don’t you understand who stands before you, child?” The hand on his arm now brushed his bangs, and Gakupo’s eyes glinted with quiet mirth. “Do you believe yourself to be the only wanderer through time?”

_“…Envoy?”_ Kaito’s eyes widened.

In response, Gakupo bent down and kissed his forehead. “Didn’t I tell you? I will always return to you.” He then rested his cheek lightly on the same spot. “You didn’t make it easy for me, though.” Through their contact, Kaito could sense the tiny vibrations of his laugh, even if it remained unvoiced.

But what about Gakupo? _His_ Gakupo? Was he trapped inside his own body, like Kaito had been before?

“I’m about to wake up,” the placid voice informed him, a moment before Gakupo took a step back, clutching his head with his hands.

“Gakupo!!” Kaito yelled. He fought against his constraints, but it was no use. He couldn’t move from his spot, frustratingly close, yet unable to hold the trembling artist.

The young man sunk to his knees, groaning. “What is happening…?” He heaved, squeezing his eyes shut. “My head…Ah!” Without warning, he leaned forward and began retching uselessly.

“Yuki!! We need help!” Kaito shouted as loud as he could. He was rewarded with indistinct words and the sound of someone running towards them. A moment later, Yuki and her teacher appeared in the doorway, followed closely by Goro. The child and the servant gaped at the figure on the floor, but Sensei pushed up his glasses smoothly.

“Goro, help him up.” The middle-aged man startled, but then picked Gakupo up, keeping him on his feet even as the young man shook like a leaf in a storm. “Yuki, bring me my bag.” The girl took off running without a word, and her teacher motioned Goro to lay Gakupo on the bed. “There, no walking around for you, at least for a fortnight,” he said soothingly, as Gakupo gradually stilled. Just being off his feet seemed to improve his shaking quite a bit.

“Is he going to be ok?!” Kaito finally dared to speak up.

Sensei turned to look at him coldly. “No thanks to you. What, did you ask him to set you free? Didn’t Yuki tell you not to wake him?”

“Wha- I didn’t! He woke up on his own!” _Actually, that may not be entirely true._ But Kaito wasn’t about to explain to this man that something odd was happening to them, especially since he didn’t understand what it was in the first place.

“I shouldn’t have put you in the same room,” the bespectacled man decried. “But we had no other rooms ready and unoccupied. We’ll need to remedy that before you finish him off.”

“I would never hurt Gakupo!” Kaito roared. “What I did on the beach was to save him!”

Sensei stared at him frowning, while Goro looked from one to the other with an expression of profound interest. No doubt, as soon as he was allowed to leave, he would run to gossip with the other servants.

“Here’s the bag, Sensei!” Yuki announced, running back into the room with a black bag on her arms.

“Thank you, Yuki,” her teacher said in a much warmer tone to the child. He took the bag and briefly rummaged through its contents, before retrieving a couple of bottles and an elongated case. After rubbing his hands and Gakupo’s arm with the content of one of the bottles, he took a crystal and metal _thing_ from the case, and filled it with the contents of the second bottle.

“What’s that?” Kaito asked. He didn’t like how it ended it a thin metal needle.

“Be quiet now.” Sensei took the artist’s arm, _and jammed the metal point into his skin_.

“No!! Please don’t hurt him! Please!” Kaito again struggled to break free, ignoring the pain on his side.

“How backwards this territory has become, Goro. This man has never seen a hypodermic needle,” Sensei commented to his servant, who laughed with unease. He probably wasn’t too used to them himself.

“Leave him alone!” Kaito had by now the distinct feeling that he was bleeding again, but didn’t care one bit.

“Calm down or I’ll sedate you as well. This is a medical innovation from the continent across the sea, I’ll have you know. I’m doing my best to treat your friend.”

Kaito abruptly stop moving, and stared openmouthed at him. He felt his face grow red, under the calm, confident eyes of Yuki’s teacher. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Actually, I’m glad this happened. Judging by the way you reacted, it seems like the official version of what happened last night is incorrect.” With a small smile, Sensei retracted the needle, now empty.

Yuki gently tucked Gakupo in, with a muted “Sleep well.”

“Goro, Yuki. Go help Kayo while I speak with this man, alright?” Goro nodded, visibly disappointed, but took Yuki’s hand in his and left.

“My name is Kiyoteru Hiyama. What’s yours?” the bespectacled man sat on the edge of Kaito’s bed, and began to untie the leather straps.

“Kaito…And he is Gakupo Kamui.” Perhaps complete sincerity was the way to go with the healer, Kaito concluded. He saw the light of recognition in Kiyoteru’s eyes, as soon as Gakupo’s name was spoken, and the man quickly stole a glance to the immobile figure nearby.

“Kamui? Like the famous artist down south?”

“That’s his son, actually.”

“But I was told…Hm, and I’m guessing you didn’t actually kidnap him either, did you?” After Kaito’s vehement refusal, Kiyoteru pushed up his glasses again, possibly due to force of habit. “Let me tell you what my friends in the city guard told me. According to them, a fellow claiming to represent an important lord visited the fort, to ask for official help retrieving his master’s son. The lad had been kidnapped by a crafty man who was feeding him lies in order to turn the poor boy against his own father. Akano, the representative in question, had official-looking papers from the lord of Koume and Bou, so the city garrison promised to keep an eye out.”

“And lo and behold, the very next day the representative and his retinue are killed on the beach by a mixed-blood man like the one he described. And then the suspicious man runs away from the scene, carrying someone on his back.”

“Admittedly, he’s older than what the story would suggest. He looks about ready to wed,” Kiyoteru noted, taking in Gakupo’s profile.

Kaito shook his head, barely registering the last lines. The lord of Koume _and Bou_? Did Gakupo’s home even exist anymore? “Yu…Yu conquered Bou?”

“It happened very recently, it seems. They’re probably still trying to put off the fires from the last attack,” Kiyoteru said darkly.

“What about Gakuto Kamui? Is he still alive?” Kaito prayed to every god he knew that the answer was a yes, and felt a sharp pang of pain when Kiyoteru gestured with his hands, indicating ignorance.

_Things just keep piling up on your shoulders, don’t they?_ Kaito longed to offer some comfort to the unconscious artist, but he knew the fall of his city was going to be another huge blow no matter what he said.

“So what’s your story, then? The real one?” Kiyoteru prompted him to speak, after returning to his task of undoing the leather straps.

“Gakupo here was drafted to fight in Bou’s defense. And got captured by Koume’s troops.”

“An artist’s son was sent into battle?” Kiyoteru arched his eyebrows.

“Things were already going bad by then. In any case, he caught Yu’s eye.” Kaito didn’t feel like adding anything else, and didn’t need to, since Kiyoteru grimaced, acknowledging the implications of the phrase immediately. “I decided to help him get away.”

How simple it sounded. And it was, after all. Even if it was the guiding impulse of his life now, it needn’t be complicated.

“Here you go,” Kiyoteru finished untying Kaito’s arms, and pushed the covers back, presumably to untie his legs. Instead, he stopped and frowned, looking at the bandages covering Kaito’s side. “You reopened the wound! I’ll have to take another look at it.” In an instant, he changed back into his professional persona, and refused to engage in further conversation until he patched up Kaito again.

Kaito let him do his work in peace. After all, he needed time to process what had happened before his arrival.

The Envoy had been there, speaking to him with Gakupo’s voice. How could that be? If he belonged to the past, as Kaito suspected, that meant that the old magic users could project themselves into the past _and future_ at will. He had heard of many tales involving seers and prophetic dreams, but this seemed slightly different. He had never heard of them possessing the bodies of others, for starters.

For the first time, he felt some resentment towards his ancestors. They had left them, all the ones like him and Gakupo, without explanation, without even caring if they understood the power inside of them. Even the Envoy himself seemed purposefully evasive, even mocking.

Well, now that Akano was gone and he had two cities to administer, perhaps Yu would leave them alone for a while. As soon as Gakupo and he were good to go, Kaito intended to hike up to the mountains, and discover whatever secrets the Meu Rehn had forgotten to hide. They could figure something out by themselves.

As Kiyoteru bandaged him, Kaito noticed a little bound notebook on the nightstand. It seemed oddly familiar, but he couldn’t remember where he had seen it before.

“What’s that?” He pointed to it, once Kiyoteru backed away, admiring his handiwork. The brown-haired man looked at him, puzzled.

“It fell out of your coat, when we took off your clothes. We assumed it belonged to you.” Kiyoteru handed him the small tome, so Kaito wouldn’t have to move.

“It doesn’t look like-oh, I see,” Kaito flipped the notebook open, and found himself staring at a page packed full of careful handwriting. “It’s Akano’s. Funny, I don’t remember taking this from him at all.”

He wasn’t too much of a reader, given his lack of formal education, but Kaito immediately recognized his own name repeated many times in the block of text before his eyes. His skin crawled as he realized what it was. He turned the pages, even as part of him wanted nothing more than to throw the notebook across the room.

It was a disturbingly detailed account of everything he had done during the brief period when he served in Yu’s army. There were even sketches of him, interspaced with the notes, in different states of dress, always looking away from the observer.

In the last page of the account, there was nothing but a single blue hair stuck to the page, kept in place by small pieces of glued paper on each end.

After that, the writing became much more erratic. Long sentences stringed together, scribblings, even holes in the paper caused by an overly enthusiastic pen- it was a clear indication of how much he had managed to unhinge Akano with this trickery. Kaito clenched this teeth, unsettled. True, he had charmed both men and women before into telling him things they should’ve kept secret, but he had to admit he had never gone quite as far with the deception as he had done with Akano. And it never had been when someone that was so infatuated with him as the sallow man had apparently been. He didn’t even know what to think about it.

“Anything useful?” Kiyoteru piped up, surprising him. Kaito had forgotten the man was still in the room.

“Ah, no, not yet at least. But maybe I can prove he was lying with this.”

“Sounds like a good idea. I didn’t inform anyone that you two are here, but even if the servants don’t talk, there’s a chance the guests from yesterday will. If the guards come here, I won’t be able to protect you.”

“You’ve done enough as it, Master Hiyama.”

“Kiyoteru is fine. Hm, I think lunch is ready,” the healer announced, after a distant chime rang out. “I’ll have Goro bring you something.”

“Thanks.”

Once the man departed, Kaito went back to the notebook. He opened it on the very first page, and found it was a more general record of whatever Akano found interesting while serving his master. Kaito skimmed past a dozen pages of that, not really paying much attention. Then he turned the page, to find himself looking at a familiar figure, captured in black and white cross hatching. He stared at it, his fingers squeezing the notebook with fury.

In the sketch, Gakupo was on his knees, looking right at him with bafflement and fear. He wore an oversized and torn military uniform, and his hair was escaping from a crooked ponytail. His hands were bound behind his back.

_Just what the master likes_ , Akano’s handwriting stated below the drawing. _Clean him up and bring him inside after the meeting. They could all use some entertainment._


	11. Chapter 11

XI

Kaito poured over the next section of the notebook, feeling the bile rise on his throat. There were no more sketches for a while, and that in itself was a small blessing. But the contrast between the graceful symbols and the revolting meaning they conveyed made the experience of reading them all the more sickening.

From what Kaito could discern from the notebook’s pages, the lord of Koume and his closest subordinates regularly held ‘private parties’ where enemy prisoners were abused mercilessly. And the one proudly in charge of choosing their victims was none other than Akano himself.

The bookkeeper had taken great pleasure in documenting the indignities carried out that night, clearly looking forward to the sight of someone from the upper classes being humiliated and toyed with. But in a twisted way, the artist had been lucky in comparison to the fate of some of the other prisoners selected for that evening’s games. Indeed, Akano seemed almost disappointed Yu had decided to take the young man away to his retreat, instead of letting his associates get too rough with him.

_Nevertheless, he now knows what the world really is like_ , Akano commented at the end of the page. _Which makes this a more educational experience than any fancy schooling his father ever provided for him._

In the past, Kaito had preyed on rich merchants whenever he had the chance, so he couldn’t claim he had never acted guided by resentment and envy. But Akano’s flippant words and the acts behind them disgusted him so much that he felt physically sick. He finally had enough and threw the notebook aside. It bounced against the wall, and a folded paper dislodged itself from it, calling his attention. He picked it up wearily and saw it had his name in big black letters. He unfolded it, frowning.

_I’m dead now. No matter the circumstances, I’m undoubtedly dead_ , the paper said. _But I must let you know how I feel. Life may have defeated me, but I can only rest if you, my beautiful blue dream, understand me-_

Kaito crumpled the paper and tossed it aside without scruples. Did that man really expect his sympathy after all the things he’d done? He closed his eyes, trying to purge the images off his head. How could things like those happen without a punishment from above? Eto truly was a cursed land.

“Hm, lunch is here.” The servant was back, carrying a tray with legs. It had a full meal, fish or seafood judging by the smell, and a jug of iced tea like he had requested from Yuki.

“Thanks,” Kaito said, composing himself. The food looked excellent, hot and filling. It was a shame that he was in such poor humor to enjoy it fully. “Can I ask you something?” He let out on a whim to distract himself.

Goro scratched his head. “What do you want to know?”

“Kiyoteru looks awfully young to be a healer, and yet already has a practice and an apprentice. He must be really talented.”

The servant’s face lit up with the praise, and he nodded vigorously. “He’s the best one in all of Gyuugan, yes sir. If the triumvirate had any sense between them, he would be their chief physician. But his family had a fallout with the council a couple of generations back and they won’t give him a fair chance. Their loss, I say.”

_And in this case, our gain_ , thought Kaito. “What about Yuki? Is it common for healers to start their training that young?”

“Ah, Miss Yuki is a special case. Master Kiyoteru saved her and her mother when she was born, but the family was so poor that had no money to pay him, or even afford another mouth to feed. So our master took Yuki in as his heir and apprentice. You could say she’s been learning the profession since birth.”

“Impressive.” Kaito took a sip of the iced tea, watching the servant’s honest smile. This was a good household, no doubt about it.

“Well, gotta get back to work. Rest well, young sir.” The servant bowed rather informally and shuffled out of the room.

“Alright…Eat when you can, don’t forget that,” Kaito instructed himself, and dug in. As expected, it tasted wonderfully. This was a good household, indeed.

***

Having nothing to occupy himself, Kaito slept most of the afternoon away, thankfully without any nightmares or visions. When he came around, he found that the room was shrouded in shadows, and someone had at one point come in to close the window. Only a sliver of light from the corridor attacked the deep darkness that surrounded him.

Squinting, Kaito saw a small bell on the nightstand, presumably to call for a servant. Perhaps he could enquire about supper in a while. But not right away. For once, he didn’t feel like moving, or doing anything. Perhaps it was the pain in his side, or the warmth of the bed. Or the fact that so many things had happened lately without giving him time to reflect. Sometimes it felt good to stare at the ceiling, letting time pass idly.

“Kaito…?” A weak voice called out to him, from the other bed.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he whispered back, not even knowing why he used a low voice. It just felt proper.

“Where are we?”

“A healing house. Before you ask- Akano won’t be bothering us again. He’s done for.”

Kaito heard a sharp intake of air, but nothing more. It was to be expected, he supposed. Gakupo wasn’t the type to enjoy revenge. “How do you feel?” He asked finally.

“Like someone cleaved my head in half.”

“I’m sorry. I should’ve taken you with me when I went shopping.”

“Don’t say that. You saved me again, didn’t you? And I’m not even worth it.” Gakupo exhaled. “They took the sword away from me so easily, despite all you taught me. I couldn’t even run away.”

“No one becomes a swordsman so quickly, not even you. Now stop blaming yourself or I’ll come over there to spank you,” Kaito joked.

“Could…could you come here anyway?” Gakupo asked even more quietly.

“Hmm, the healer said I shouldn’t get up, but-” Before Kaito could finish, Gakupo bolted up, and then groaned, holding his head with his hands.

“You are hurt? They hurt you?!” He stammered arduously.

“Don’t move, alright? Yeah, they gifted me a new hole, but I’ll be fine, don’t worry!” Kaito placated him.

But Gakupo still got up stubbornly. He held his head with one hand, and pawed at the nightstand with the other like a sightless man to cross the space between the beds. Kaito moved into a half-reclined position and held out his arms just in time to stop Gakupo from crashing into the bed.

“What do you think you are doing, dummy?” Kaito chastised him, pulling Gakupo under the covers with him. The artist laid his head on his chest, breathing heavily.

“I need you,” he said simply. His hand grabbed a handful of Kaito’s tunic.

“Hm, I don’t think either of us is in any condition for _that_ right now,” Kaito noted.

“I don’t mean…I just need to feel you close,” Gakupo said with a curious mix of embarrassment and frustration in his voice.

“I’m just kidding. I feel the same way.” To reinforce the point, he carefully wrapped one arm around Gakupo. “Just don’t squeeze me too hard or the healer will have our hides.”

Despite his aching body, it did feel good to have Gakupo pressed against him. Cocooned inside the warm bed, the world was reduced to the texture of the hand touching his neck, the weight of his head over Kaito’s heart and the subtle scent of his hair. Now this, this was a world that made sense.

In contrast to his own words, Kaito suddenly felt an overwhelming need to claim Gakupo’s mouth as his again. With dreamlike slowness, he moved, and Gakupo quickly caught on to his intentions, shifting positions.

“One kiss, that’s all I need,” Kaito whispered.

Gakupo’s only reply was a faint whiff of air, and soft lips, blindly searching for his. Even without clearly seeing his expression, Kaito could tell Gakupo was torn between his desire and the fear of hurting him further. He was barely touching him at all. Mischievously, he grabbed Gakupo’s chin and nibbled on his lower lip, making him gasp.

“If you are going to kiss me, do it like you mean it,” he teased him.

“I mean it…I mean it,” Gakupo said breathlessly, leaning in once more. This time, Gakupo grabbed the back of his head, and captured his mouth with so much hunger it surprised him. The familiar euphoria swept Kaito off then, that craving so immense that no matter how many times they came together, he severely doubted it could ever be sated. He gave himself in, forgetting about anything that wasn’t the wave of sensations saturating his senses.

Everything about the situation felt somewhat unreal, from the fervent way their tongues danced around each other, to the way his battered body was reacting to Gakupo’s caresses. _This is irresponsible, you need to stop_ , Kaito told himself, even as he began to investigate whether Gakupo was wearing anything under the tunic.

In the corridor outside, the sounds of someone pushing a cart and greeting patients began to grow louder.

“Someone…Someone is coming,” Gakupo said unnecessarily and pulled away. Before Kaito could stop him, he rolled out of bed, but wobbled dizzily and fell down on his rear with a yelp. “Ow…”

Goro chose that moment to appear, rolling in a heavily loaded cart with a lamp on top. He blinked at the scene before him. “I’d say that we tied up the wrong person,” he quipped. The man quickly helped Gakupo get up and into bed, shaking his head good-humoredly.

“Sorry about the trouble,” Gakupo mumbled sheepishly.

“It’s all part of the job. But you need to take this more seriously, lad,” Goro scolded him, poking his own head. “Someone tried to squash your head like a melon, we’re not taking about a bruised knee here.”

“He’s right, let’s both be more mindful,” Kaito interjected. Already he was beginning to regret his lack of self-control. What if Gakupo suffered lasting damage because he wasn’t resting properly? Of the two of them, he was the one that was supposed to be more experienced and world-weary. This was no time to be acting like a love-stricken teenager.

“Okay…”

“Don’t sound so dejected, lad. Master Kiyoteru will have you on your feet in no time,” Goro replied to the unenthusiastic utterance with a grin. He lit up the candle on the nightstand, and served each one his food. “You’ll have plenty of time to run around later. Just take it easy for a while.”

“Thanks, Goro. And thank everyone else for us, alright?” Kaito requested with complete sincerity.

“Sure thing.” The man walked out, pushing the slightly swerving cart.

“You heard the man. We need to reign it in for a couple of weeks, at least. Think you can live without my charms?” Kaito winked.

“No,” Gakupo answered with a straight face.

“Oh.” That caught the blue-haired man off-guard. “Hm, well, I’m right here. Not going anywhere. Hole in the side, remember?”

“Yet another scar,” Gakupo remarked in a strange tone.

“That’s the price of living a life of roguish excitement.” Kaito laughed, then held his side with a grimace. But in all honesty, he wasn’t bothered by any of his scars, and no one else seemed to mind them terribly.

“I’ve marked you,” the artist added.

“Yeah, you did. But that happened a lot earlier than this little scratch.” Kaito pointed at himself. “Ever since I laid eyes on you, to be precise.”

“Love at first sight? Really?” Gakupo smiled, some color returning to his face.

“Call it whatever you want, _lad_.” Kaito waved a hand dismissively, but smiled himself. “Just concentrate on getting better, and I’ll do the same.”

Gakupo turned to look away at his food, a content expression on his face. And that was when Kaito was reminded of a small detail: Gakupo wasn’t aware that Bou had fallen. He had to tell him.

But instead, he shoved a spoonful of boiled vegetables into his mouth. He couldn’t, not yet. It made sense to wait, anyway, in case news about Gakuto surfaced. Or at least until Gakupo recuperated. He just needed to warn Kiyoteru and his people, to keep them from blabbing for a while.

***

Several peaceful days passed after that. Gakupo kept having bouts of dizziness and terrible headaches, but Kiyoteru was confident that they would go away with time. As for Kaito, he was resilient as ever, and the pain hardly ever bothered him.

Surprisingly, it seemed that no one had alerted the guards. Kiyoteru discreetly slipped Akano’s notebook to his friends in the force, and the search for the ‘lord’s son’ rapidly became a token gesture. Gyuugan wouldn’t officially call Yu and his people liars, of course, but also made no further attempts at actual cooperation. Akano’s death was ruled a robbery turned violent, and excuses and promises of swift justice were sent south, never to be followed through.

After two weeks, Kiyoteru finally gave his approval for Kaito and Gakupo to walk around in the garden, and take in the fresh air.

“We look like a couple of geezers,” Kaito joked, as they walked at a snail’s pace to the back of the garden. They sat in the bench by the gate, looking up at the white sky.

“I _feel_ like an old man,” Gakupo retorted. He seemed almost dwarfed by the big wooly coat he was wearing. “It’s been ages since the last time I practiced regularly. My joints are going to creak the next time I dance.”

“I think the question is, _when_ are you going to act in front of people again?”

Gakupo’s shoulders sagged. “That’s true. I can’t perform publicly to earn us some money, or the word is going to spread.”

“I shouldn’t have brought that up, sorry.” Kaito circled Gakupo’s waist with his arm and rested his head on his shoulder.

“It’s ok.” Gakupo ran his fingers through Kaito’s hair. “We are going to need money soon, though. We can’t keep taking advantage of Kiyoteru’s and Yuki’s generosity. And we’ll need supplies if we intend to go up the mountains.”

“True.” Fortunately, no more strange phenomena had occurred after his last talk with the Envoy, aside from vague dreams that faded as soon as he woke up. As drawn as he felt towards his presence, Kaito was beginning to feel unease from what seemed to be intentional vagueness on his part. They had to discover the truth somehow. “I’ll get work in the docks when we can be certain I won’t burst if I lift a sack of flour.”

“Perhaps I can find a job as a clerk somewhere,” Gakupo said hesitantly.

As educated as he was, Kaito doubted he had ever used his skills in a practical manner. “We’ll figure something out,” he reassured him anyway.

Placidly, snow began to fall. Kaito looked upwards, in time for a snowflake to land on the tip of his nose. He laughed, and stuck his tongue out to catch another. He liked snow, the cold purity it brought down on the world.

“We have all winter to save money for whatever we decide to do next. I don’t want to leave the city only to lose ourselves in a blizzard or something,” he told Gakupo after letting the snowflake dissolve inside his mouth.

“We’ll need a room somewhere, then, for some privacy,” the young man replied in a low tone, gesturing towards the house. Kayo was poking out from the kitchen window, peering at them with red cheeks and glinting eyes.

“You got that right.” Kaito waved at the woman, who quickly disappeared with a squeak. “I mean, I don’t particularly care what any adults think, but I’d rather not be caught in a compromising position by Yuki again. I thought Kiyoteru was going us to tear in half.”

“That was …rather embarrassing. But at least she learnt to knock before entering.”

“See? We just gave him the opportunity to teach her useful life skills. No need to be mad.” Kaito laughed again, then kissed Gakupo’s cheek. He felt as unburdened as the snow fluttering around them.

***

Kaito looked nervously from one end of the street to another, again and again. No signs of Gakupo. It was very unlike him, to be late for lunch. Kaito paced around the lamppost, kicking the dirty snow on the street corner.

A fortnight had passed since Gakupo started working this new job, after being fired from a number of clerical positions. As it turned out, trying to work desk-jobs in moneylenders and other similar offices exacerbated his headaches terribly, and none of his employers wanted a sick person around. But the sedate ambience of the bookstore was perfect, and the elderly owner was caring and generous. The only thing Kaito didn’t like about the store was its closeness to the college of Gyuugan.

Kaito heard a distant bell, letting him know that half of his lunch break was gone already. Something was amiss, for sure. He turned to look at the docks, down the lane to his left. His boss was not going to like this, but he couldn’t waste any more time. He took off running towards their home without any more hesitation.

The home in question was a little two-story house, squashed between other elderly constructions in a narrow lane not too far from the square with the emperor statues. It was dark and creaky, a stack of dusty old rooms without grace, but the rent was cheap and the owner was one of Kiyoteru’s patients, and clearly loyal to the healer.

Thankfully, the home wasn’t far. In less than five minutes, Kaito was turning the corner, just in time to see a man closing their front door. Judging from his robes, he was a college student.

Kaito slowed down abruptly and examined the student. The dark-haired youth had a rather dopey expression of happiness in his face, and looked about as dangerous as a drunk puppy. He was playing with something in his hands.

Kaito approached him silently, fingering the knife under his coat. It was rather obvious that the student had nothing to do with Yu or his people, but he had no business here either.

Once he was near enough, the object in his hand turned out to be one of Gakupo’s hair ribbons. To Kaito’s annoyance, the student brought the ribbon to his lips and kissed it, before turning to go. Without even noticing the man observing him from the shadows, the student almost floated down the street, whistling joyfully.

After he was gone, Kaito tried the door. It was unlocked. He want inside, feeling immensely peeved.

The fire pit in the living room was lit, he discovered, casting warm light that tinged the ancient furniture around it, leaving the distant corners in shadow. Gakupo was curled in a nearby couch, covered by a blanket, seemingly asleep.

“What’s going on here?” Kaito asked out loud.

“…Kaito?” Gakupo mumbled, without opening his eyes. “What time is it?”

“ _Lunch_ time.”

At this, Gakupo’s eyes flew open, and he tried to prop himself up in one elbow, before falling back down, rubbing his temples. “Owowow…I’m so sorry. Masao said he would send someone from school to the docks to let you know…I had to take the rest of the day off.”

Kaito crouched down next to him and gently placed his hand on Gakupo’s forehead. “That’s ok. Masao’s a client?”

“Yes. We were talking when I got really dizzy all of the sudden. I knocked down some books I was sorting when I fell, so Old Macne asked him to walk me home.”

“You’ll have to introduce me to him then, so I can thank him.” _And tell him to back off_ , Kaito thought while smiling innocently. “So did he ask for your ribbon, or did you give it to him?”

“My ribbon…?” Gakupo ran his fingers through his hair, distractedly. “I don’t- maybe it came undone when I fell.”

Kaito guffawed. “Never mind. Do you want me to bring Kiyoteru here?”

“No, I just need to sleep it off. We’re going for lunch to their place tomorrow, right? He’ll give me a checkup then.”

“Well, I hope he has something up his sleeve…this has gone on long enough.” Kaito straightened up, and turn to face the rickety staircase, “I’ll get the bedroom heated. If you’re going to sleep, it shouldn’t be down here.”

“Thanks.”

By the time he got Gakupo upstairs, Kaito was running frankly late, with barely time to grab a greasy bag of some poor fried sea creature from one of the beachside kiosks. He briefly considered just asking for the afternoon off, but his boss had spent the morning chewing off everyone on sight, so it seemed a good way to get fired.

An hour or so after he returned to work, a messenger boy from the college showed up, as Masao had promised. At least he was good on his word, Kaito had to admit.

The afternoon passed as slow as molasses until he was free to go. He went home, half expecting to find some other disaster had happened while he was busy dragging salted fish around. But no, Gakupo was still in bed, and there were no lecherous students around. Relieved, he fixed some supper for them both, and brought it upstairs.  

“I’m not hungry,” Gakupo stated as soon as he saw the tray in Kaito’s hands.

“Oh no, don’t start with that. You didn’t have any lunch, did you? At least drink the soup.” Kaito handed him a bowl with an authoritative tone.

Gakupo grimaced but accepted it, and began to blow over it to cool it down. After a few moments, he took a careful sip. “It’s good.”

“Of course it is, I know how to run a house.” _I’m not a complete brute_ , Kaito thought, miffed.

“I’m lucky to have you,” Gakupo said, smiling a little.

“That’s my line, you know.” Kaito sat on his side of the bed, over the covers, and began to eat in silence.

Gakupo gave him a puzzled look, before taking another sip.

“…I was thinking, maybe you could bring me books to read, now and then,” Kaito said with downcast eyes, after a while. “I can learn.”

“Learn about what?”

“Anything you find interesting. Just try me.”

Gakupo gave him an intrigued grin. “How determined you sound, all of the sudden. I thought you didn’t care about that sort of thing. I’m glad to be wrong, though.” He looked back to his meal, and took a bite out of the roasted fish and munched it carefully. “You seem to like history, maybe you can start with the _Golden Annals_ , then _Discourses on Imperial Bloodlines_.”

“Great,” Kaito replied, feeling a bit more cheerful. He slung his arm around Gakupo’s shoulders. “And then we can have scholarly conversations and stuff.”

Gakupo blinked, then looked at him with a rare cat-like smile. “Wait a minute…is this about Masao?”

Kaito exhaled. “…Him and all the other poncy kids that come into the shop every day and don’t buy squat.”

Gakupo shook with repressed laughter, holding his head with a hand. “Don’t say things like that when I have a headache, please.”

“They don’t come in to see Old Macne, if you haven’t noticed.”

“I know. And I _do_ make them buy things now and then.” Gakupo seemed rather used to the idea of having admirers. Perhaps it was to be expected, considering his previous life as a theater actor.

“Is that where all those books and flowers come from?” Kaito asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Some of the books, most of the flowers, yes.” Gakupo explained nonchalantly, but then his smile faded. “It doesn’t mean anything, Kaito. I’m love with you.”

“I know, I know. I’m being stupid,” Kaito rested his head on Gakupo’s shoulder. “But I mean it about the books. I don’t want you to become bored with me.”

“There’s no way that could happen…But I’ll bring the annals tomorrow.”

“Good.”

 


	12. Chapter 12

XII

Sometime later that night, Kaito woke up, feeling as if someone had whispered his name only a moment before. Did Gakupo need something? He groggily patted the bed, but there was no one beside him.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes. At that moment, he heard a creak outside, and frowned, worried. He didn’t particularly like the idea of Gakupo using the stairs on his own when he could experiment another bout of dizziness at any moment.

Kaito pushed the covers aside and sat up to put on his boots. “Gakupo! Wait up, I’ll help you down!” He then noticed Gakupo’s boots were still waiting by his side of the bed. If the young man was going to the latrine, that meant stepping outside in the backyard. It was insane to go without shoes, given the climate outside.

Alarmed, he whipped his head around and confirmed that Gakupo’s coat was still next to his hanging from the perch on the wall.

“Gakupo, wait!” Kaito stood up and practically ran towards the door. It was ajar. He bolted past it and reached the top of the stairs just in time to see Gakupo opening the front door. With only the dying light of the embers inside the fire pit, it was hard to see his face clearly, but he was barefoot and still in his nightclothes.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?!” Kaito shouted.

The figure below turned to look at him, and Kaito felt a shiver. Even in the dim light, the placid smile and cold, confident eyes conveyed clearly that Gakupo’s body was being controlled by the Envoy. The mysterious man then mouthed something inaudible and stepped out the door.

“No! It’s freezing outside!” Kaito shouted, but the man didn’t return. Cursing loudly, Kaito went back into the bedroom to get their coats, a lamp and Gakupo’s boots.

Moments later, he was standing outside, waving the lantern in one direction and another. With a sigh of relief, he caught a glimpse of a white figure near the end of the lane, swiftly going in the direction of the square. He pursued, but despite his efforts, he only managed to catch up in the square itself, and only because the Envoy had stopped, and was staring at the empty pedestal in silence.

Kaito threw the heavy coat around the artist’s shoulders, grimacing when his hand briefly brushed again the pale cheek and found it cold as ice. He turned the youth around, ready to release a violent diatribe, but hesitated when he saw the sorrow in his eyes.

“How did it happen?” The Envoy asked, clutching one of Kaito’s arms. His hands looked almost blue. Kaito cringed again, and then his eyes were drawn to his feet, white like paper against the dark stones that lined the square.

“No clue what you're talking about, nor do I care. But if Gakupo loses a toe thanks to you I’ll find the way to sock you.”

The Envoy looked at him strangely, and then his surroundings, as if he had just noticed he was standing outside on a cold winter’s night. He accepted the boots Kaito was waving practically in his face and wore them without comment, and then put his arms through the sleeves of the coat.

Once this was done, the man gestured towards the empty pedestal. Despite the hour and the weather conditions, there were still a couple of candles still lit, casting their shadows on the ground. “Ao…Did you die because of us? Because of me?”

For a second, Kaito felt as if the blood on his head had evaporated, only to be replaced by fog. The words rang on his ears, seemingly coming from a great distance, from across an ocean of flames, or perhaps a forest of pikes. But the moment passed, and he felt nothing more a mild annoyance.

“I _thought_ you were confusing me with someone else, last time we talked. I’m not Ao, sorry. Or actually no, I’m not sorry. From what I’ve heard, he was a drooling moron.”

The Envoy stared at him. “But…you are old enough!”

“I hope you are not suggesting I look old enough to have witnessed the fall of the empire, because that was generations ago,” Kaito quipped.

“It is you, Ao! Remember!” The man was displaying more passion that Kaito thought he was able to muster.

“I rather not be someone that ruined the empire, if you don’t mind.” Kaito looked away, smiling bitterly. What a strange situation to find himself in, arguing with a long dead magician from ages past, in the middle of a sleeping city. Perhaps he was still asleep, after all.

The Envoy took a step back, a familiar look of cold contempt twisting his features. “Again evading your duties? Is there no limit to your foolishness?”

“Says the one that came here wearing nightclothes.” Kaito shook his head, feeling very tired and humorless. “Look. At first this whole magic business was very exciting, but now… I won’t have you putting Gakupo at risk like you did tonight.” He exhaled, releasing a puff of white air.

“You are dead. Ao is dead. The empire is dead. Please let Gakupo and I live our lives in peace. I’m not who you think I am, and that’s the end of it.”

“You can’t deny the past forever,” the Envoy spat.

“Leave us alone!” Kaito replied fiercely.

The man gave him a last look of disgust, and then the face before Kaito lost all expression, and relaxed. Gakupo tilted forward, and Kaito caught him just in time to keep him from falling to the ground. His eyes fluttered open and he looked around in confusion. “What- Kaito…where are we?”

“You don’t remember? Ah, never mind, come on.” He quickly guided Gakupo back home, evading his questions.

So those visions…Was he jumping into the body of the emperor? _That explains the childishness_ , he thought wryly. He still had no idea why they were connected, but the idea that he was Ao, alive once more, was simply ludicrous. He couldn’t even bring himself to consider it without feeling a visceral discomfort. It simply couldn’t be. _No, a thousand times no._

“Kaito? Are you ok?” Gakupo asked timidly.

With a shock, the blue-haired man found he had walked right past their house, immersed as he was in his thoughts. “Urgh, I’m sorry.” He backtracked quickly.

Once back inside, Kaito stood right next to the dying fire in the ground floor, while Gakupo sat warming his hands and eyeing him worriedly. “Kaito…Please talk to me. What happened tonight?”

The former bandit sighed. Gakupo didn’t remember anything, like the previous time the Envoy decided to visit them. “Look, could we talk in the morning? I’m beat.” Truth be told, Kaito had no idea what to say. The only thing he knew is that he didn’t want to mention Ao at all.

“The morning? But…” Gakupo knitted his brows, searching Kaito’s face.

“Please, let’s just go back to bed.” All he wanted to do was to bury himself under the covers and forget the Envoy’s words. _I’m not Ao,_ he reassured himself, and wrapped his arm around Gakupo’s waist. Ignoring the artist’s protests, Kaito hauled him upstairs and into their bedroom.

Once it became obvious that nothing he said was going to make a difference, Gakupo sat in obfuscated silence, watching Kaito undress and slip back into bed.

“Tomorrow, I promise.” Kaito turned off the lamp, and then curled up facing away from Gakupo. The youth grunted something indistinct in response.

Images of every unjust thing he had ever seen danced behind his eyelids. The darkness around him only served to sharpen the contours of every man-shaped monster he had known. Eto was cursed. The emperor had died cursing the land. Cursing the ones storming his palace, burning and tearing down everything. Cursing the thousand pikes thirsting for his blood.

Kaito was barely able to keep his balance, perched in the narrow ledge. The palace was spread far below, a chaotic sea of flames and crumbling structures. This tower was his last hiding place, his last chance to prolong his life a few miserly moments, but death no longer frighten him. He cackled maniacally at the noises coming from the stairs, the clanging of armor, and the voices insulting him. Why rush so much? He wasn’t about to let them have the last word.

He pressed the dried crown of flowers against his chest, and the fragile red petals crumbled into dust. The fragments were caught in the scorching air from the fires below and scattered. Inside the tower, he heard the soldiers began to pummel the door.

It was time. He shouted his final words of venom to the winds and jumped off the ledge. His robes caught the air for an instant, billowing around his body like wings, but it was nothing more than a temporary illusion. He fell into the flames below, laughing.  

_***_

Kaito awoke to the sound of rustling paper. He turned, and watched Gakupo silently for a few seconds. His lover was sitting up, reading a big tome with beautiful illustrations on each margin, and paid Kaito no attention.

“Good morning,” Kaito said, reaching out to touch one of Gakupo’s hands.

“Good morning, ready to talk?” Gakupo replied in a less warm tone than the usual morning greeting.

“Oh come on. Can’t I even have something to drink, or wash my face before you start needling me?” Kaito blurted out.

“Sorry I’m such a nuisance,” Gakupo retorted tensely. He placed a paper bookmark between the pages of the book, closed it, and placed the tome on the nightstand. “I’d better go make some breakfast.” He stood up.

“No, no…you are still recovering, I’ll do it.” Kaito jumped out of bed and grabbed Gakupo’s shoulders, to gently push him back into bed. Gakupo looked at him, inexpressive. It was a face Kaito hadn’t seen for a while, and it stung.

“I can always lean on you,” Gakupo muttered.

“Of course.” Kaito diverted his eyes, for the first time unwilling to meet Gakupo’s eyes.

“But you don’t feel the same way towards me,” Gakupo concluded mechanically. Without any more comments, he sat back down on the bed.

Kaito stood haplessly, wanting to say something, anything at all. But every single word seemed to have been erased from his mind. He walked outside and went downstairs, stomach churning.

Gakupo didn’t understand. It had nothing to do with him, it was this growing feeling of dread he felt every time he remembered the Envoy’s words. But he couldn’t explain it. He couldn’t bring Ao into the light of day, and the normalcy of everyday life. It would insufflate life into the dead emperor, life that didn’t belong to Ao any longer.

_So it’s preferable to let Gakupo think you find him unreliable?_ The thought cut him like a stab on his chest. He was inside the kitchen, choosing fruit from a basket on the counter. He stared at the archipelago dewberries, without really focusing on them. _You know his self-confidence crumbled after what happened to him. You know it hurts him to continuously be in need of help. Least you can do is make sure Gakupo knows you trust him completely._

Lost in this thoughts as he was, he barely noticed the sounds of Gakupo coming downstairs to wash up, and then back upstairs. It did bother him that the artist insisted on moving around without his help, but Kaito decided to wait and gather his courage before approaching him. The idea of speaking aloud the emperor’s name still sent shivers down his spine, for no reason he could fathom.

Finally, the kettle began to scream its high-pitched whine. He began carrying everything he’d made to the table on the living room. Before he was done, though, he saw Gakupo walk down the stairs fully dressed, and strode purposely towards the front door.

“Wait, breakfast is almost ready.” Kaito followed him, feeling his nervousness swell.

“What happened last night?” Gakupo turned around and asked him, eyes flashing.

“I…” Kaito ground his teeth. His stomach was jumping, and he began to sweat. He felt like he was falling from a great height, with no one there to grab him. The mugs in his hands shook, spilling hot liquid on the ground. “I need time to think, ok? Just lay off already!” He shouted, swept by the panic that seemed to be pouring from a deep well inside him, a part of him kept in chains for years.

Gakupo gaped at him, pain and concern mixed in his eyes. He took a small step towards Kaito, but then seemed to reconsider. He looked away, and squeezed the strap of the satchel slung across his chest, over the coat. “Macne has some tea and cookies in the back, I’m- I’m running late anyways, I should go.” It was an obvious lie, given the pale light outside, and they both knew it.

The young man hesitated again in front of the door, looking back at Kaito. But whatever Gakupo saw in his eyes made him visibly deflate. He stepped outside silently.

Kaito wanted to pursue him, to make sure Gakupo didn’t go through the day thinking he had done anything wrong. But he instead went back to the table and sunk into a chair. He looked at the mugs on the wooden surface, wishing they had alcohol in the house. He dearly wanted to curl up next to the fire pit with the strongest spirit in the city and drink himself into a stupor.

“What’s wrong with you, moron? Eat something, go to work and talk things out with Gakupo at lunch,” he instructed himself. Unenthusiastically, he grabbed one of the mugs and began to drink.

***

Gakupo didn’t show up at their meeting place. Instead, a messenger from the college appeared and handed him a note. It was a terse message, letting him know that some of the friends Gakupo had made while working in the bookstore had invited him over for lunch.

_You did tell him to lay off_ , Kaito told himself, crumbling the paper. _At least he’s out there somewhere, having fun._

He walked back to the seashore, and bought a carton of rice and fried shrimp. He sat on some marble steps, half-covered with sand, and ate while watching the waves. It was a good meal, for the price, but he munched and swallowed it without enjoying one bite.

Kaito hated being alone. He always had, even as a child, when he ran after his father on the field behind his home, or when he hounded his mother while she picked mushrooms in the forest. It had been the same at the hideout, while he learnt the ropes from Tane and his friends. Once he got too big to sleep in Mio’s bed, he began having trouble shutting his eyes at night, unless he was on a mission, and huddling on the floor with other bandits out in a field or dark alley somewhere. Too soon for Mio’s liking, he began to flirt around, shacking up mostly with men, just to have a warm body to drape himself around at night.

Little Mine had been a blessing, ever since her mother drop her off in Mio’s arms and went back to the country estate she worked in. He took over her care immediately, without even questioning himself why he did. Every single moment of the day and night he spent at the hideout, Mine was near him, close enough to ruffle her hair if he felt like it. Sometimes Mio joked that they were married, since Kaito had completely stopped inviting his conquests into his room after the little girl’s arrival. It was only natural, though Kaito never explained it to his foster mother. He didn’t need his lovers anymore. Mine could scare the unfathomable fear in the back of his mind better than any of them.

Gakupo had the same power over him, even if their relationship was very different in nature. From the start, Kaito had wanted to seek shelter in his arms, and taste peace in his mouth. Gakupo was mistaken in thinking he was sullied in any way by his experiences. In Kaito’s eyes, he was like a shining lamp in the darkness, and Kaito had flown right to him, ready to burn. Instead, Gakupo had welcomed him and loved him, reaching past his pain and shame to hold Kaito in the warmest of embraces.

Lunch break was almost over. Kaito turned his back to the sea, looking for a place to dump the empty carton. He finally found a bin and walked back to the warehouse, pensive.

He was still afraid, and he couldn’t understand why. But he was ready to talk. He couldn’t let what he had with Gakupo sour over ghosts.    

The afternoon hours went by in a meaningless blur. Kaito was chomping at the bit long before his shift was done, so distracted that he almost dropped a large metal something-or-another on his feet. He was ready to sing in joy when the boss finally let him go.

He ran back home, only to find another paper waiting for him, this time under a stack of books over the living room table. It explained, in Gakupo’s neat handwriting, that those were the books they had discussed, plus a dictionary and a collection of ancient folk songs Kaito might enjoy.

Kaito stared at the note with furrowed brow. It said not a word about where Gakupo was at the moment. He tore it in four pieces and let the scraps fall to the floor.

It didn’t take him long to check the rest of the house. It was empty.

He sat with the books near the fire pit, leafing through the _Golden Annals_ with apathy. It was full of names and places he didn’t recognize. He skipped to the end chapters, the section about the disintegration of the land.

The empire of Eto had grown too large and overreaching, at least in the opinion of the author. It was saddled with thousands of officials that cared more about their personal gain than the smooth running of the state. In the court proper, the ministers fought among themselves to hold the most power, and even the imperial family more often quarreled than stood together.

Ao’s parents had been assassinated when the boy was only a month old. The culprit was unclear, though the book listed several different theories by scholars of the period. That left him first in line to take the throne after his uncle, a notorious dissolute. The man obligingly died soon after, making the boy emperor at the age of three.

Emperor Ao was in the hands of his ministers, then, to be warped into whatever shape suited them. For the most part, they allowed him to live happily inside the palace, ignorant of the world outside.

But the lands beyond the capital couldn’t be silenced. There were allegations of neglect from the east, whispers of sedition in the west, and frank rebellion in the archipelago. To make matters more complicated, the Night of the Thousand Lights came when the sky opened and the visitors came through.

The Meu Rehn had appeared at times during the ages, but never in this number. They were running from something, a threat none had ever divulged. So they sent their prince, the Envoy, to ask for the emperor’s protection. They wanted to settle here in Eto, at least until the immediate danger passed.

Kaito could guess what had happen then, even though the book decorously described it as the Envoy joining the court as an advisor.

_We made an agreement, you and I. Would you honor it if I left?_ The man had asked in his dream. And Ao was selfish, and infatuated beyond reason.

It fit the contempt he had seen in the man’s eyes perfectly. And yet, it didn’t match the affection he sometimes displayed. Perhaps he had begun to pity the oblivious emperor, after a while. Perhaps he had grown accustomed to him, or began to tell himself Ao wasn’t all that bad.

The book didn’t say.

All it said was that the Envoy began to exert an, to the eyes of some, excessive influence on Ao. He tried to make him take a more active role in running the empire, to bring about reforms.

And he had been murdered for his troubles.

The book shook in his hands. The black and white page began to blur before him, and to his surprise, Kaito found himself weeping. He hadn’t shed tears in years, not even when he found himself looking at Mine’s silent form before the burnt hideout. That day a huge darkness had taken hold of him, but even that pain was now dwarfed by the howling inside his heart.

It was worse, because it was his fault. He had made the Envoy a target.

He, the last emperor of Eto, had allowed the man he loved to die.


	13. Chapter 13

XIII

Kaito closed the book and put it aside, to stop his tears from ruining the delicate pages, and rubbed his eyes. But the tears wouldn’t stop. He cried like a child, without any restraint, feeling as if the grief would never cease to grow from inside of him.

He couldn’t remember a thing. But he couldn’t deny it any longer. He was Ao. He knew it without doubts. He had wasted a life in ignorance and self-complacency, he had forced a man he wasn’t worthy of touching to stay by his side, and he had brought a whole empire down thanks to his mistakes.

He brought his head back as the tears kept rolling down his cheeks. Everything was his fault. All of it. Instead of fighting the corruption of the court, he had let it fester. Instead of seeking the respect of his subjects, he had shunned them. He had the opportunity, with the Meu Rehn on his side, to squash any conspirators trying to tear his empire apart. And instead, had managed to get their leader killed.

The Envoy…even the brief glimpses he had seen of him were enough to sear his image in his mind. And yet his blood had spilled for his sake, and Kaito couldn’t even remember how the man had died.

He heard the front door open and Gakupo's muted voice announcing his return. Kaito rubbed his face and tried to reply, but the only thing to come out of his mouth was a ragged sob.

He heard the sound of bags hitting the ground then, and Gakupo’s hasty approach. The youth landed in front of the couch with an almost excessive pirouette, but Kaito was in no mood for admiring his swiftness.

“Kaito, what’s wrong?!” Gakupo yelled, grabbing his hands.

Kaito shook his head, discouraged. How could he even begin to explain?

But Gakupo insisted, even if he seemed on the verge of tears himself. “Please, let me help you! There has to be something I can do!”

Kaito pulled him close, and buried his face in Gakupo’s shoulder. After a moment’s hesitation, Gakupo circled him with his arms and squeezed hard. “If there’s anything I can do to make you feel better, I’ll do it,” Gakupo stated in a softer tone.

Kaito didn’t move or speak, despite how much he wanted to reassure him. He remained in Gakupo’s arms, letting his tears soak his shoulder. “Just let me stay like this…please,” he managed to murmur after a while. Gakupo rubbed his back, waiting.

“I saw the Envoy again,” Kaito started, after a while. The hand on his back stalled for a moment, then continued circling.

“He told me…The reason why I keep seeing visions of the past is…” Kaito gulped. “I’m Ao. I’m the last emperor, reborn into this world,” he blurted out, without even pausing between words in his haste to let the unpleasant truth out. The hand on his back dropped.

“And you believe this?” Gakupo’s voice sounded extremely odd, almost amused. Kaito pulled away in surprise. Gakupo met his gaze with a troubled but undoubtedly incredulous expression. “Kaito, you had a couple of weird dreams, and now you’re calling yourself emperor?” He eyed the pile of books and actually chuckled. “I should’ve brought you a treatise on botany.”

Kaito boggled. “You think I’m imagining things?!”

“All I’m saying is, we don’t know anything for certain,” Gakupo said cautiously. “Even if the Envoy really is communicating with you from the past, what makes you think he’s not mistaken? Or that he is even telling the truth?”

“Why would he lie? Why even appear before me, then? I’m nobody, he gains nothing from tricking me. He…” Kaito stopped, staring at Gakupo. “It’s you, isn’t it?”

“Huh?”

“You are him. You came back as you said you would!” He took Gakupo’s face in his hands, searching his face. But Gakupo just seemed confused and a bit uncomfortable.

“…You think I’m the Envoy now?” Gakupo gently but firmly took his hands away from his face and stood up. “I think you’re getting carried away with all of this.” He began pacing around the fire pit, casting glances at Kaito like a caged animal.

Kaito watched him, more than a little confused himself. Why that reaction? Didn’t he see how everything fit together? “Perhaps that’s why you can do magic, and I can’t. Perhaps you just need to remember-“

“ _Perhaps I don’t want to_. I’m not like you, Kaito. I don’t care about the glories of the past. And even if I was the reincarnation of a mage from imperial times, well…”

“What?”

“I don’t think I want you to compare me to the Envoy. I’ll always lose that contest from the way you look when you talk of him.” Gakupo smiled sourly and dropped on the couch.

Now it was Kaito’s turn to stare incredulously. “You are jealous of him? Of _yourself_?”

Gakupo blushed a bit. “I don’t want to disappoint you. You are expecting something out of a play: to discover yourself to be royalty, no less. And now you have casted me into the role of the powerful magician when I’m nothing of the sort.” The artist tugged at a strand of his hair. “Do you know how many times I tried to cut those chains with magic? But nothing ever worked. Even when he was…” Gakupo stammered, trying to get the words out, to no avail. “Even then, no great miracle saved me. All that ever happened was that I broke things here and there, and mildly inconvenienced him.”

“Did Yu realize it was you doing it?” Kaito asked, momentarily sidetracked by his curiosity.

“Not at first. But it was hard to avoid, given the circumstances. Once he became aware of it, and understood exactly how little use I could derive from it, he found it very funny.”

“Funny?!”

“He used to say…” Gakupo again struggled with his words so much that Kaito had ample time to speculate. “He would say, ‘You’ll like it so much you’ll make the house explode.’” Gakupo looked ready to throw up after uttering the words, but there was some relief as well, as if he was proud of being able to say it, of looking back on that period without completely breaking down.

Kaito had no words to reply to that. He couldn’t wrap his head about that type of behavior, even after all he’d seen in his life.

“And that’s also why I don’t want to be your Envoy. Because that would mean I could’ve done something to save myself, but I didn’t. Do you understand?” He was pleading now, even if he didn’t state out loud. _Don’t pile more shame on me, or I’ll sink under the weight,_ his face seemed to say.

Kaito lowered his eyes. “I’ll…I won’t speak of this again, until we go to the mountains. We’ll know more then.” Or probably not. What could possibly be up there in those empty ruins that could settle the issue? But somehow the ruins had turned into a talisman to ward him from doubts.

To ward them both, apparently. Gakupo smiled a little, approvingly. “It’s better that way.” He stood up and walked towards the bags spilled on the floor.

There were also two bouquets, one of blue and purple blossoms, and another that immediately drew Kaito’s attention. It was a large bundle of big red flowers. Kaito had seen those flowers, perched upon the Envoy’s head, but he hadn’t described them to Gakupo at any point.

“What are those?” Kaito asked, more or less achieving a casual tone.

Gakupo caressed a petal. “It’s called Twin Comets. It was brought by the Meu Rehn when they settled here. I thought you might like it.”

“I do,” Kaito stood up and took the bouquet from Gakupo’s hands. “Do you have any thread? Or a ribbon?”

“Will this do?” Gakupo loosened his ponytail and presented Kaito with his hair ribbon.

“I think so. Let’s see,” Kaito brought the flowers and the ribbon to the table and began working. Gakupo watched him curiously.

Kaito and Mine had spent many hours trying to figure out how to make daisy chains, in their spare time. These flowers were a bit more stubborn, but he finally managed to fashion something that resembled the crown in his visions. Smiling, he placed it on top of Gakupo’s head.

“It suits you,” Kaito commented, and hugged Gakupo carefully, to avoid knocking it off his head. _You are my second chance, whether you know it or not. I’ll keep you safe this time, you’ll see._

Gakupo smiled, ignorant of how much he resembled the mage from the past at that moment. “Help me put these things away and we’ll make supper, ok?”

“Sure.” Kaito smiled back. _Anything you want._

***

It was nice to be able to wake up without any metaphorical clouds on the horizon, for once. Kaito grinned at the crown of flowers, carefully placed on a cushion near Gakupo’s nightstand. Now, it was the symbol of his vow towards its owner.

Gakupo himself was still fast sleep, breathing peacefully on Kaito’s neck. Their fingers were still intertwined, as they had been when the youth from Bou sank into his arms, exhausted.

For an evening that had started with tears, things had taken a much pleasant turn after supper. They stayed up long after the sun sank under the horizon, speaking in hushed tones near the fire. It didn’t matter, for the time being, that Gakupo didn’t want to acknowledge the past. Kaito could hardly claim that his reaction had been more accepting. It was fine.

Kaito heard a morning bird sing outside, signaling dawn, but was in no rush to move. In a moment of weakness, his boss had agreed to let him take the day off, and old Macne was all too happy to do the same for Gakupo, once he learnt it was a special occasion.      

So Kaito and Gakupo had all morning for themselves. Later, they would join Kiyoteru and Yuki for lunch. The afternoon was as full of possibilities as the morning, although Gakupo had mentioned he wanted to do something special for him, to celebrate.

Kaito wasn’t sure there was anything more ‘special’ than what he had already here in his arms, but he was more than willing to wait and see.

He stared at the ceiling, happily. This time around, he had no armies, or piles of riches to offer. He was nobody, like he had said before. But he had won his right to be laying like this with the one he loved. He could stand by his side and be proud of what they had built together.

He could even begin to atone for everything else. But perhaps he wasn’t meant to punish himself for all of it. Maybe this was the gods recognizing how small he was, and giving him a life and goals to match. So Kaito thanked them, from the bottom of his heart.

The light pouring in through the slits of the closed window slowly changed. It seemed that his birthday was going to be rather sunny, for a winter day. That was nice. They could take a walk around the parts of the city they hadn’t explored yet and eat in the garden with Kiyoteru and Yuki.

Finally, Gakupo decided to leave the world of dreams. He nuzzled his head against Kaito like a cat, making him laugh, and kissed his jaw. “Good morning.” His voice was even more hoarse than usual from sleep. “Happy birthday, Kaito.”

“Thanks,” Kaito grinned. “Is that a present for me?”

“Hm, where?” Gakupo asked groggily.

“Here,” Kaito rolled their bodies to be on top of Gakupo and disappeared under the covers.

Gakupo laughed throatily, running his fingers through cerulean hair while Kaito’s mouth burnt a trial on his skin. “I love you, I love so much,” the young man muttered.

Kaito replied in his own way, making Gakupo gasp and moan. Up and down and tracing drunken lines, Kaito moved in time with the flow of the blood inside of him, paying tribute to the one that held his heart.

_Bury me now, right here_ , Kaito thought madly, as Gakupo’s breathing became more and more agitated. _No need to pull us apart._

Gakupo cried out, arching his back, and Kaito gripped him tightly, as tightly as he could, taking in everything about him, until his quavering form stilled. “I love you…” Gakupo repeated, filling the words with so much passion that they seemed minted anew, just for them.

Kaito cupped Gakupo’s flushed face, taking in his eyes, more luminous than ever. That look was for him alone. Those words were his, forever, no matter how they called each other.  

***

“Happy birthday, Kaito!” Yuki squealed, presenting him with a blue rose. With a grin, he pinned it to this coat and thanked her, ruffling her dark hair.

“Happy birthday.” Kiyoteru shook hands with Kaito, while the servants bowed behind him, and nodded to Gakupo, who was practically glowing. “Come, we have the table ready on back.”

The garden had been obviously been designed to be beautiful in any season, given the striking contrast of winter-flowering plants and the dark branches that surrounded the table. The many dishes on display gave off steam, and were invitingly colorful and varied. Kiyoteru had seemingly taken advantage of the still extensive commerce that Gyuugan maintained with other zones of Eto and abroad because there were many fruits and vegetables Kaito had never seen in his life.

“I made you a hat,” Yuki informed Kaito once he was seated, and produced a paper…something, pointed and covered in colorful scribblings. Kaito laughed and placed on top of his head, certain that he looked absolutely ridiculous, and completely fine with it.

“That’s Uttian wine in the dark bottle. And this is honeybrew from the east, if you prefer something sweeter.” Kiyoteru showed each bottle in turn.

“And that one?” Gakupo asked, pointing to a jug.

“Oh, this is just juice for Yuki and me. I don’t like drinking in the middle of the day, makes me sleepy,” Kiyoteru explained, pulling his glasses up with a smile. He was much more relaxed than when the pair were his patients. It appeared to be something of a personality quirk, how quickly he shifted gears when work was involved.

“I’ll try the wine,” Kaito stated. “No, I can serve myself-“ He started, but Gakupo had already stood up, taking the bottle and began to pour him a drink.

“You are the one being celebrated today.” Gakupo put the goblet in his hands, his fingers lingering a second more than what was strictly necessary.

“Those flowers are nice,” Yuki commented, staring at the red blossoms decorating Gakupo´s head. A couple of the leftover Twin Comets were woven into the knot of the ribbon keeping his hair up.

“Do you want one?” After the child nodded, Gakupo pulled one flower and tucked it over one of Yuki’s ears. “You look very pretty, Yuki.” The girl blushed, grinning from ear to ear.

“So, do you like Gyuugan so far?” Kiyoteru asked, after Gakupo returned to his seat.

“Best place I’ve ever lived in,” Kaito replied. And it felt completely true, this day in particular. Gakupo nodded in agreement.

Kiyoteru took a sip of juice, pensive. “Glad to hear it. Sometimes I wish I could see this city the way it was during Imperial times, but then I think: ‘You know what? We are doing fine, all of us. We’re doing just fine.’”

“Can’t argue with that.” Kaito turned to admire the pristine house by their right.

“I don’t mean just us as a family. The whole city has a feeling of unity you don’t see in other places. I’ve done my share of travelling the other city-estates, I know. And we are at peace.”

“It’s been a while since Gyuugan warred against other city-estate, right?” Gakupo interjected.

“Quite a while. Last time Ne Irie and us got into blows was in my grandfather’s time,” Kiyoteru agreed. “It appears that the greed of our leaders works in our favor. They covet more commerce, but they don’t want to waste time and resources in pointless land squabbles.”

Gakupo lowered his head in silence, probably thinking about Bou. He was still ignorant of the fate of his town, despite the time passed since its fall. Kaito never had the heart to tell him.

Kiyoteru stole a quick glance at Kaito, raising his eyebrows when he saw him shake his head almost imperceptibly. He pursed his lips in clear disapproval, but then took another sip and shrugged. “Well, less talking and more eating, you know how quickly food gets cold around here. Yuki, let me know if you need anything.”

They dug in, then, and the conversation was reduced for a while to sparse comments complimenting Kayo’s and Goro’s culinary talents.

After the meal was over, Kiyoteru patted Yuki’s mouth with a napkin. “There, now go make Kaito and Gakupo some pictures to hang in their house. We need to talk about boring grown-up things.”

“Okay!” Yuki jumped out of her chair and went to look for her art supplies.

“Can I go too? I don’t like grown-up stuff either,” Kaito joked.

“I think you might find this is useful information.” Kiyoteru steepled his fingers. “From what I’ve heard, Yu left his most trusted lieutenant in charge, and left Koume.”

Gakupo paled, speechless. Kaito gave him a worried glance and asked, “You think he knows we’re here?”

Kiyoteru lowered his eyes. “I have no idea. I’m just saying, you should be alert. But it _is_ interesting to note that he chose to travel alone, without calling attention to himself. It opens him to all sorts of trouble. Ambushes and the like…” he smiled.

Kaito and Gakupo looked at each other, and then back at him. “I recommend that you don’t change your looks, for now. Let him come. Several of my friends in the guard had relatives or loved ones in the south,” Kiyoteru added in a nonchalant voice.

“You can be a scary man, Master Hiyama.” Kaito wagged his finger. “Aren’t you supposed to take an oath of some sort, when you become a healer?”

“Have I said anything uncouth? I don’t believe so,” the brown-haired man shrugged once more. “If the warlord is in need of my services after my friend’s greetings, he’ll receive the same attention as any other patient. Then-”

“You want me to be bait.” Gakupo interrupted him, as cold a tone as he had ever spoken in Kaito’s presence.

“You only need to give us a good description of the man, and the guards will arrest him as soon as he sets foot in the city. There’s no need to fear,” Kiyoteru replied, his mood somewhat spoiled by Gakupo’s reaction.

“What if it doesn’t work? What are you going to do then? Say you’re sorry?” Gakupo actually scowled.

“Gakupo, maybe we should listen to him…” Kaito took his hand. It was incredibly tempting, to be finally done with all the running and hiding. It was past time to flaunt his happiness to the world, as far as he was concerned.

“Let us force the issue. Have a performance here, in the end-of-winter festival. Announce your presence so loudly he can’t help but come. Then the net closes…” Kiyoteru clenched his fist, “and off he goes into the dungeons!” and motioned with it, in the direction of Gyuugan’s fort.

Gakupo looked from Kaito to Kiyoteru and back, his mouth twisted in a grimace. Finally, he declared “I’ll think about it.”


	14. Chapter 14

XIV

“Look, you need to tell him what happened down south,” Kiyoteru whispered urgently, grabbing Kaito by the elbow. Nearby, Yuki was showing Gakupo her many masterpieces, including something that looked like all four of them riding some sort of dragon.

“What good would that do? You still don’t know if his father made it, do you?” Kaito whispered back, ticked off.

Kiyoteru made a frustrated face. “He’s certainly not making performances, that’s for sure. Most of Bou burnt to the ground, in any case, including the Kamui Theater.” He ran his hand through his hair. “But Gakupo’s going to hear about it sooner or later. It should be from you.”

“I know.” Kaito sighed. Why couldn’t the good times ever last?

Yuki and Gakupo finished admiring the pictures and placed them in a tube, rolled together. It was time to go.

“Living afraid is no life, Gakupo,” Kiyoteru said from the door, as he waved them off. Gakupo just nodded and looked away.

The pair walked away in silence. They took a wide avenue they had never explored before, which seemed to circle around the castle perched in the highest point of Gyuugan, and then lead inland. Several branches of it communicated to the different sections of the city, and at the points where the branches and the main road joined, tall stone arches depicted important moments in the history of the Empire.

“That’s Her Tua, king of the archipelago, prostrated before the Emperor of Eto,” Gakupo pointed upwards, as they stood under the shadow of one of the arches.

“When the Empire annexed the islands, right?” Kaito asked, looking at the pupil-less eye of Her Tua, vaguely aimed at their direction. It was somewhat unsettling.

“Yes, and to seal the union, the Emperor made Her Tua’s daughter his second wife.” Behind the prostrated figure, there was a girl with braided hair, extending her hands with an unnaturally wide smile on her face. “She wasn’t _that_ pleased by the deal, probably.”

“I bet she wasn’t half-alligator either, yikes.” Kaito noted, earning a laugh from his companion.

“That’s just the old art style. Late Shion period sculptures are much more naturalistic.”

“Shion?”

“The last dynasty,” Gakupo explained, still looking up. If he was thinking about their conversation the previous day, his face didn’t show it.

“…Oh.”

“You know, I think we should go home…” Gakupo noted. “If it gets too late, we won’t be able to do what I was planning. It needs to be in the backyard.”

“Oh, does it? And what do you have in mind?”

“You’ll see.” Gakupo flashed a mysterious smile, and pulled Kaito along by the hand.

***

The pair was in their living room. Several pieces of expensive-looking clothing were laid over the ancient furniture, looking extremely out of place in the poor house.

“Where did you get all of these?” Kaito was almost afraid to touch the diaphanous fabric Gakupo was presenting him, dyed blue and with embroidered waves.

“Around,” Gakupo non-answered, a sash and several pins and decorations hanging from his neck. “Take your clothes off.”

“Wha-?”

“Your clothes. Off. Naked. Kaito. Now.” Gakupo intoned in staccato bursts, clearly enjoying Kaito’s look of confusion.

“You want me to wear that?! What if I rip it?” Kaito took a step back, but then saw the look in Gakupo’s eyes. “….Fine.”

 _I wore things like these once, when I was Ao_ , Kaito thought. And yet, the garments seemed more alien than anything he had ever worn. He spread his arms woodenly, letting Gakupo do with his body what he pleased. Still, Kaito felt tremendously stupid, and his face undoubtedly reflected that.

“You are a very handsome man, you know? Well, when you are not twisting your face like _that_ , anyway.” Gakupo kissed his cheek. “These things suit you perfectly.”

The many layered robes whispered around his ankles, as Kaito moved cautiously. The overall color of the outfit shifted as the many layers came closer or parted, and their designs combined. When he inclined his head, the ornaments of the crown on his head clinked together, almost musically.

“Since you like the Imperial period so much, I thought you might want to recreate a blessing ceremony using replicas of the clothing nobles wore back then. The backyard is not exactly the palace gardens, but it’ll do. Now help me put on the rest of my outfit.” Gakupo was already wearing a very complicated set of robes and jewelry, but he gestured towards an even more extravagant crown and several veils, laid over the table.

“How did people walk in these things?!” Kaito cried out, almost tripping the moment he took a step.

“You realize I’m going to dance, right?” Gakupo began to fix the veils around the back of his head, using even more ribbons. “Come here, I need your hands.”

“Never mind walking or dancing, I don’t think I can breathe in this.” Kaito finally reached Gakupo’s side, and did his best to follow Gakupo’s instructions. He was probably the worst theater assistant the artist had ever suffered.

Finally, they were both done to Gakupo’s satisfaction. They marched towards the back door, Kaito still awkwardly placing one foot after the other as if he was walking on glass shards.

Gakupo took a small bucket and ladle next to the door and handed them to Kaito. “Listen, you’re the rainfall lord, and I’m the spirit of spring. You just need to use the ladle and bless the plants, and I’ll dance for them and make them grow.” His arm made a wide semicircle, indicating the bushes and small trees lining the backyard. “Then stand in the middle, put the bucket down there, and we’ll share the last sip together.”

“I’m going to fall down.”

“No, you are not.” Gakupo jumped down, ignoring the couple of stone stairs, and extended one hand. Kaito grab it and slowly descended, praying that he wouldn’t completely mess this up. Gakupo was completely into it, he could tell, enjoying this first ‘play’ in months.

“Your step goes like this,” Gakupo instructed him. It was slow, at least, very dreamlike. Kaito could do that. “You are supposed to sing out, calling me, but I doubt you know the song. Shame, your voice would match the lord perfectly. Maybe just hum it? Listen…” Gakupo suddenly belted out a tune. The words, like most old religious and folk songs, had lost their meaning with the passage of the ages, but the composition was simple. Kaito managed to replicate it after a couple of tries.

“I wish we had an audience, you’ll do great,” Gakupo enthused.

 _I’m so glad we don’t have an audience_ , Kaito thought.

“Let’s begin. Go!” Gakupo gestured. Kaito drew in a big breath, and step forward, with the measured, smooth movements of the Bringer of Rain. He sorted past imaginary clouds, slowly drifting by. He moved the bucket in a semicircle, keeping the water inside completely level, and his ladle moved up and down by his side, touching the cusps of the forests below.

Kaito reached the first plant, a flowering bush that waited in slumber for warmer temperatures. He stomped his feet rhythmically before it, sprinkling water with his ladle over the dark leaves, and sang. He repeated the call three times, and then Gakupo answered him, weaving a song of his own. With a fluttering of silks, Spring Gust appeared by his side, twirling around the bush as if his clothes weren’t cumbersome at all. Kaito gaped. He had seen Gakupo dance in a couple of occasions by now, most memorably in the festival of Benida, but this time took the cake. The artist was completely absorbed in this role, putting all his energy into a performance held in the unkempt backyard of an old house. A dance that would’ve been praised in any castle or mansion of Eto, and yet no one but Kaito would ever see.

With a jolt, Kaito realized it was time to keep moving. He continued his methodical tour through the yard, stopping every so often to rinse another plant with water. Gakupo zipped here and there, jumping as if the earth had no pull over him, catching the rays of the afternoon sun with the jewelry circling his hands, neck and forehead.

 _Did I ever perform this ritual, back then?_ Kaito questioned himself. He was near the end of the semicircle, and only now he was beginning to become accustomed to the robes and precise movements they required. _Did he?_ He added mentally, as he called Gakupo towards the last plant.

The sun was beginning to set, when Kaito slowly pivoted and walked towards the center of the yard. More or less where Gakupo had indicated, he placed the bucket on the ground, and held the ladle with both hands. The water inside glinted golden.

Gakupo danced around him, as swiftly as he had traversed the yard at first, then progressively slower. Finally he knelt before Kaito, extending his hands. Kaito took a sip of the ladle, hoping that it was what he was supposed to do, and then passed it to Gakupo, who did the same, before placing it over the bucket.

“Um, this is it?” Kaito whispered after a moment.

“There’s more to the ceremony after this, but I think I’m done torturing you for now,” Gakupo winked. He rose gracefully and embraced Kaito, circling his waist with his arms. “You did well, I’d take you in as my apprentice if we were back home.”

“I’m honored,” Kaito replied and kissed him. _I’d rather not wear anything like this ever again, though._

“No, no. Despite of what the gossip says, apprentices are _not_ allowed to kiss their masters,” Gakupo pulled back, smiling mischievously, and danced away.

“Never mind then, I don’t want any job that forbids me from touching you.” Kaito bunched up the bottom of his robes and followed him.

Gakupo burst out laughing at the sight. “Careful, I need to return these tomorrow,” he scolded Kaito good-humoredly.

“Return them _where_?” Kaito tried again to dispel the mystery.

Gakupo eyed him strangely. “The college has an amateur theater troupe… Masao got them to lend the outfits to me.”

“Alright, alright, don’t look at me like that.” Kaito waved his hand. “You can have as many friends as you like. Friends with money and connections and a bright future, all that. Friends that are very obviously in love with you, even.”

“Kaito…”

“I’m not worried, Gakupo. You will always return to me.” As soon as Kaito uttered the words, he became aware that he was falling again into the subject of their past lives, something Gakupo didn’t want to discuss. Kaito looked at him, fearing his reaction, but there was only faint surprise in his face. He didn’t remember the phrase was in any way significant, Kaito realized.

“….Yes.” Gakupo smiled. “I will always return to you, I promise.”

Kaito masked his elation at hearing this with a goofy grin. “Glad to hear it. Now let’s go inside so you can take his thing off me.”

***

“I want to perform in the end-of-winter festival.” Gakupo announced that night, while they cuddled in bed.

Kaito found himself very unsurprised by it. Gakupo missed the theater, and his ‘special present’ that afternoon had been partly a way to scratch that particular itch, whether he realized it or not. But Gakupo needed a real stage, and an audience to appreciate his skill.

“We can meet with Kiyoteru’s friends, see what they’re planning. If it sounds safe enough, why not?” Kaito replied.

Gakupo squeezed his hand in response. “We’ll be free to return home,” he whispered softly. “I think Father will like you.”

 _Oh dear,_ Kaito thought, grimacing. Not the way he wanted to end his birthday this year, but this was as good a moment as ever. “Gakupo…”

“Hm?”

“Kiyoteru gave me some news…I’m sorry.” He immediately felt the body pressed against his tense. “Bou was defeated.”

“No!” Gakupo’s eyes seemed almost like a panicked animal. He sat up, pulling the sheets with white knuckles. He almost seemed in the verge of another seizure, like the ones he had suffered under Kiyoteru’s care. Kaito quickly sat as well and embraced him, rocking them both gently.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” How insufficient the words seem to Kaito. But what else he could say? Even if he promised to hunt down and kill Yu himself, it wouldn’t reverse the destruction he had caused.

“....What about the Theater?”

Answering that fragile voice almost felt like a crime on itself, but it couldn’t be helped anymore. “Burnt down like most of the city proper. It seems Yu was mostly interested in annexing the surrounding territories, more than preserving the city itself.” Kaito rubbed Gakupo’s back, fruitlessly. He knew what the artist was feeling, and he knew he had no cure for it.

“Then Father and the rest…?”

“I don’t know.” Kaito closed his eyes, feeling extremely useless.

“So maybe, maybe he’s in hiding? Until he can rebuild the Theater,” Gakupo mumbled with a painfully false cheer in his voice.

“Maybe,” Kaito conceded.

“We need to sort our problems out, and go find him. Make sure he’s safe.” Gakupo stated, the same tone in his voice. “Then we can rebuild the theater or bring Father here. Right?”

“I’m sure of it,” Kaito said quietly, hugging Gakupo. He didn’t believe it for one second, but he wasn’t about to argue.

***

“This are the friends I told you about. Akito, Natsuki, Tohma and Haruto,” Kiyoteru presented each one in turn. The soldiers were in their uniforms, with their helms under the arms, and nodded politely to Gakupo and Kaito.

Kaito watched them with interest. Akito and Haruto clearly had some foreign blood, given their red and blond hair, respectively, that contrasted with the dark hair on Tohma and Natsuki. They seemed to be roughly about the same age as Kiyoteru, so they probably had been childhood friends of some sort. Whatever the case, they all had honest, intelligent faces, and seemed willing to help in the matter with the warlord.

“We think the best place to hold the performance would be in the courtyard of the fort itself,” Haruto explained over a map of the city. “It would be almost impossible for Yu to escape the trap.”

“The other good site would be in front of the old hall, around here.” Tohma pointed a region near the center of the map. “It’s surrounded by good vantage points, and there’s only two exits. In case of funny business, it should be easy to block the access to the plaza.”

“Of course, it’s a matter of requesting the proper permits. The festival is held all around the city, but the triumvirate needs to approve any big events,” Kiyoteru pointed out. “I doubt they will deny you a permit, given who you are, but you need to request an audience. And you’ll need a troupe.”

“I think the college troupe might want to participate in this, if I reveal who I am. They really gush about my father,” Gakupo replied somewhat mutedly.

“Good, good.” Akito patted him in the back, and the others nodded.

“I want to act too. Or at least, be on the stage while you’re up there,” Kaito interjected.

Gakupo looked at him with surprise, but Kiyoteru nodded. “That might be a good idea. You can tell Yu apart from a crowd, right? Maybe you can be a narrator, or something like that, just in case if Gakupo doesn’t see him right away.”

“He’s kind of hard to miss, once you know what he looks like. Prematurely grey hair, big bulky guy,” Kaito commented. It hardly seem to adequately describe the man that had brought so much suffering to southern Eto, and to them in particular, but ultimately there wasn’t anything particularly monstrous about his appearance.

Instead of adding anything else to the description, Kaito then focused on Kiyoteru’s suggestion. From what he knew, the narrator usually stood on a corner of the stage, not really participating on the action at all. It would be a good vantage point to see the crowd. “Narrator sounds good to me. Let’s do this.”

“Excellent,” Kiyoteru rubbed his hands, smiling deviously. For the first time, Kaito wondered why he cared so much about capturing Yu. Was there something he wasn’t saying?

“We’ll write you a letter or recommendation, just in case the bureaucrats in the old tower need some encouragement to book you a date with the triumvirate,” Tohma promised.

And with that, the preparations started.

For its part, the triumvirate meeting went without a hitch. Certainly not all three men were actually interested in the arts, but they all appreciated the prestige associated with the Kamui name. That the man in front of them was the son and not the father was unfortunate, but the populace wouldn’t necessarily know the difference. Even if they did, they wouldn’t care once the play started. The triumvirate didn’t, once Gakupo performed privately for them and demonstrated his considerable skills. They gladly sponsored the play, and began announcing it as a special event of the festival, arranged by the grace of the triumvirate out of their love for the citizens of Gyuugan.

“I think the play we choose has to be something suited to the celebration, and the place we are presenting it. So that means something about Gyuugan,” Gakupo suggested in their very first meeting as a troupe. That narrowed it down some, though choosing the text was still a lengthy discussion, much to Kaito’s surprise.

He had no idea that there were so many stories, and variations on stories, and variations on the variations. Every member of the troupe, and even people that weren’t going to be directly involved like Kiyoteru, his friends and even Macne had their opinions on the matter. Since Kaito was going to narrate, he was made to read a number of the scrips in question, with everyone gauging his voice afterwards like he wasn’t even there. Uncomfortable didn’t even begin to describe it.

Finally the group settled on a story centered about the last prince of Gyuugan, and the annexation of the city-estate by the burgeoning empire. Gakupo had already performed back home as the Grey Prince a couple of times, and it was a role that suited him well. The prince had been around his age during the battle that finally decided the fate of Gyuugan, and was worshipped by some of the people of the city as an icon of independence. Obviously, he had seen a resurgence of popularity ever since the fall of the Empire.

With that settled, it was time to actually make the play happen. It took time to organize and set up a performance of the kind an important festival demanded, and Gakupo wasn’t about to do something half-baked just because they had an ulterior motive. He threw himself into the preparations with so much energy that Kaito began to suspect it was a way to distract himself from thinking anything else, particularly about the fate of Bou and its citizens. Gakupo seemed determined to believe that his Father was merely waiting for Yu’s comeuppance to come out of hiding, and Kaito made no attempt to contradict him. Like so many other things, it was easier to push aside the problem for the time being.

As for the other members of the troupe, it was unfortunate that the students had academic responsibilities to occupy their days aside from practicing, since the college didn’t go into winter recess like many smaller schools did to keep the children out of the cold. However, they all displayed a great deal of enthusiasm at the knowledge they were going to be on stage with an artist of such a prestigious family. In fact, it was to such a degree that it was rather comical to see them hanging on every word that came out of Gakupo’ mouth during rehearsals. Usually Kaito sat on a corner and watched, stifling back laughter at the sight of the youngsters following the main star of the troupe around like ducklings. Still, things proceeded as smoothly as it could be hoped for, given that it was a group of actors without any actual experienced masters.

Revealing himself as the son of a famous actor had other unexpected effects. The triumvirate insisted on granting Gakupo a house more suited to a distinguished performer and a protégée of the council, so he and Kaito moved to a fancier place closer to the palace. It meant a longer walk to his job, but Kaito wasn’t about to complain. They even had a couple of servants now, a married couple that did their work earnestly and efficiently, and spread no gossip about what their master and his ‘bodyguard’ did when alone.

Gyuugan’s richest merchants and nobles sent each day gifts to the house, and Gakupo had to politely decline several invitations to private parties, in order to focus on the upcoming performance. But it proved that if Gakupo and Kaito settled permanently in Gyuugan, the artist wasn’t going to have any trouble finding sponsors.

A few days before the festival, Kiyoteru’s friends received a message from one of the border outposts. A man matching the description of Yu had been spotted in the wilderness, travelling towards the city. In accordance to the plan, there was no attempt of arrest. So at least they had confirmation: the warlord was coming, and he was indeed alone.


	15. Chapter 15

XV

“It’s almost like the whole city is here,” Kaito commented, peering from behind the stage at the packed plaza. The idea of getting on a stage in front of such a big crowd was making his stomach jump, and not exactly due to happiness.

Ultimately, the New Kamui Theater Company’s debut performance had been scheduled to be presented before the old hall, on a stage built for the occasion in front of the imposing doors of the building. The stone construction was unused due to severe damage to the interior, but its marble shell still dominated the big plaza before it. Its ornate decorations would serve wonderfully as a backdrop for the play the students and Gakupo had chosen.

Kaito looked down at the pages of the script, nervously re-reading them for the hundredth time. A proper narrator knew his part by heart, but he had insisted to be allowed to take the script onstage. Most people wouldn’t know it was a faux paus for a proper theater company. The result had been the first time he had ever seen Gakupo get pedantic over something, which had actually been rather amusing.

“I still think it’s unseemly for you to go with _those_ onstage.” Right on cue, Gakupo walked by, the ornaments of his costume clinking with each step. Kaito stifled a laugh.

He wanted for this play to go well, as much as the artist and his friends did. Not necessarily because of any high artistic aspirations, but still…Everyone seemed very enthusiastic about it. It was hard not to get caught in the excitement, even with the threat of their enemy looming close. He wanted for Gakupo’s return to the stage to be a success. That was precisely why Kaito preferred a little amateurism over completely forgetting his lines without any backup.

“We start in five minutes!” Like a bird hopping on spring puddles, Masao quickly traversed from one end of the ‘backstage’ to another (really just the dusty antechamber of the old hall), making sure to raise everyone’s tensions a bit higher with this eager shouting. Someone playfully threw a pillow towards his face, making the students erupt in laughter. Akito, leaning against the wall on a corner, shook his head with amusement.

Gakupo returned and approached Kaito, looking him up and down with an unusually severe expression. _He really looks like the Envoy when he pulls that face_ , Kaito thought.

“Don’t fidget when you are silent, up there,” the artist warned him. “You tend to shift your weight from one foot to the other when you get distracted, or play with your costume. Don’t.”

“You aren’t any fun like this, you know?” Kaito rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache coming.

“…I’m sorry. You have no training in the arts, there’s no point in judging you with my standards,” Gakupo replied, his face softening somewhat.

“I don’t know who could pass that particular test, aside from you or your father,” Kaito commented and placed his unoccupied hand on Gakupo’s shoulder. “I know this is important for you, I’ll do my best.”

This earned him a loving smile, which did a lot to untie the knots on his stomach. “You always do. Thank you, Kaito, for everything.”

“Boss, we are all ready to go,” the sole girl of the troupe, Rion if Kaito remembered correctly, respectfully told Gakupo from a couple of steps away. Gakupo nodded at her.

“Let’s pray to the gods before we go out there,” Gakupo took Kaito’s hand and guided him to the center of the antechamber, where they stood in a circle with the rest of the team.

_They all take this pretty seriously_ , Kaito thought to himself, observing the youthful faces turned towards the floor in silent prayer. He prayed as well, though what he most desired was to resolve the situation with Yu once and for all. Then again, perhaps the gods could grant him both things at once.

With everyone silent in the room, the crowd outside sounded more energized than ever. Above the indistinct clash of voices, they heard the festival announcer take the stage and introduce the troupe. The crowd erupted in cheering and applause, already predisposed to love the spectacle.

“Time to go.” Gakupo and a couple of the performers followed Kaito in a compact line towards the stairs next to the stage.

_This has to be the most awkward thing I’ve ever done_ , Kaito thought nervously. Still, he soldiered on and carefully climbed the stairs. His appearance on stage was met with more clapping.

There were so many people. So, so many people. He could barely see the stones squares that lined the plaza. And every pair of eyes was fixed on him. Kaito almost fell over with sheer panic before he reached the spot where he was supposed to stand.

The papers were shaking laughably in his hand, when he looked down to start. The crowd mumbled, like a monster debating which of his limbs to eat first. A nervous giggle escaped from his lips.

As soon as Kaito heard himself laugh, something changed inside of him. _There, I already goofed. The least I can do now is not to dig the hole any deeper._ He smiled and took a deep breath, and launched into the introductory lines.

He had no training, like Gakupo had said. And yet he had some acting chops, as he had proved again and again, and a decent voice. So Kaito put them to use, and immersed himself in the tragedy the troupe had chosen.

After that, scene after scene went by in a dizzying blur. It didn’t matter that most of the actors were pimpled youngsters, and their props could hardly replicate the grandiose landscapes where the real events had occurred. The audience, Kaito and the actors had all accepted the fantasy, and now the stage was the Island of Ten, the Grey Palace and Old Gyuugan. The thin and bookish actors were mighty warriors or scheming courtiers, and Gakupo was the Grey Prince himself. Given time, it could probably become one of his signature roles, if the reaction of the public was any indication. The crowd rejoiced with him, raged with righteous indignation alongside him, and despaired with his untimely fall. Kaito himself almost teared up at the end, with the Prince’s monologue and final moments. It reminded him too much of his previous life as Ao, though the prince as presented in the play was in all certainty much wiser and noble than he had ever been.

And then, it was all done. Gakupo rose from his ‘deathbed’ to uproarious applause, and the members of the company all rushed to the stage, to salute the audience. Kaito walked over to the center of the stage and stood next to Gakupo, beaming.

He had no seen any signs of Yu during the play. In all likelihood, the warlord had seen the guards prowling around the plaza, and ran away. Whatever. He would make a mistake sooner or later, and the guards would catch him.

The former bandit looked below at the smiling townsfolk all around. This wasn’t that bad. He could get used to show business, to see people’s faces transformed with a song or a dance, with well recited words. He turned his face discreetly ( _whoosh_ ) to whisper that to Gakupo ( _thunk_ ) and saw his eyes widen and fill with horror.

Kaito looked down to his own chest, blinking stupidly. He stumbled forward, towards the edge of the stage, and his eyes rose to the rooftops of the old buildings surrounding the plaza. He discovered the distant figure a moment before another arrow pierced his heart. Strangely muffled screams surrounded him as he tripped and fell over the edge, his body spinning in air. For a moment, Kaito saw Gakupo reach out towards him, white as ice, but his face slipped out of his field of view, replaced by a cloudy sky.

Kaito knew he would be dead by the time he hit the hard stones below.

Then, there was a flash of light, emanating from somewhere on stage. Again, the crowd cried out, but they seemed even more distant than before. The light consumed Kaito, and everything around him, even drowning out the heavens above in its pearly glow.

Suddenly, Kaito found himself floating. It felt just like being underwater, with the costume billowing all around him, except he could breathe normally. It made no sense, but it was only one of the many baffling things about his current situation.

The plaza and the stage were gone, replaced by iridescent waters that stretched in all directions towards infinity. With little effort, Kaito turned to look below him, and immediately wished he didn’t. The waters also went deep, deep, growing darker and darker until they transformed into the blackest darkness he had ever seen. The few pinpoints of light scattered on the inky nothingness did nothing to alleviate its horrific sense of enormity. Kaito flipped around, paddling helplessly, looking in vain for something to hold on to, to stop himself from falling into the monstrous space below. And that’s when he saw the beast.

It swam directly towards him, undulating like a manta ray. Yet aside from its motions and its long tail, it had little in common with the marine creature. It had the bright colors of a butterfly, long swaying tendrils like a sea anemone, and the metallic sheen of a really complicated piece of jewelry. Something like that couldn’t possibly exist, and yet there it was, bigger than a bull, and stretching its tendrils towards Kaito. They seemed to glow from the inside with violent lilacs, blues and greens, and had the aspect of hollowed crystal tubes.

As if he needed another reason to panic. Kaito was already a thread away from going mad from the experience, and now this thing wanted to attack him? It hardly mattered that he still had lodged two arrows in this chest, and under any other circumstances would be dead already. He still fought the thing like a cornered animal, kicking and punching and twisting the delicate tendrils that tried to touch his chest. His mouth opened in a triumphant roar as his hands snapped the feelers like brittle sticks, to the agonized howling of the creature.

The sound came from nothing that resembled a human throat, but there was a familiar quality to it. Kaito paused, filled with a sense of dread. The creature convulsed, its broken bits floating around it like shards of purple glass.

It couldn’t possibly be true.

Kaito reached forward, without even knowing what he would gain by touching the colorful body. Yet his hand stretched to touch its back, past the luminous crystals that had been part of the creature just moments ago.

The beast took this opportunity to whip whatever tendrils it had left towards him and wrapped them around Kaito’s chest, and the shafts of the arrows protruding from it. Kaito yelled-

_-ripples of change crashed inside his body and all around him-_

-and he was falling again, under a cloudy sky. He hit the stone floor of the plaza, and his vision momentarily clouded with the pain of the impact. But he was alive. The arrows were gone, with the holes of his costume as the only indication they had ever existed in the first place.

A figure leaped into the air, above him, so swift that Kaito only had a second to see it before the silhouette disappeared past the edge of his vision. But its image seared itself in the back of his mind, divorced from everyday reality and yet not completely unexpected.

Gakupo was flying through the air, surrounded by a haze of shimmering air. The vague luminescence matched the size and general shape of the creature in the mysterious sea, now that he knew what to look for. But even that revelation mattered little next to the jolt that his face gave to Kaito. The artist had a deathly pallor about him, and his features were contorted in pain and full of hopelessness. Gakupo was rushing to fight his tormentor, but he clearly didn’t expect to survive the encounter.

And then he was gone, past the people that surrounded Kaito, some boggling at him, others looking up. Amongst the hushed murmurs of the crowd, Kaito managed to hear Kiyoteru call his name, and turned his head to see the healer push his way past some merchants and land on his knees at his side.

“Kaito! What was that flash of light?! Your chest-!” Kiyoteru’s eyes were wide as saucers, and he patted Kaito’s chest with incredulity.

“I’m fine. Help me up!” Kaito slung his arm around Kiyoteru’s shoulders, and the healer pulled him up with some effort, tearing the outer robe of Kaito’s costume in the process.

To their right the crowd gasped, and people began to push one another, trying to get away from whatever had caused the disturbance. Both men turned in time to see Gakupo briefly land on the tip of a pole decorated with garlands, only to leap away a moment after. A projectile of some sort sailed through the air, missing the youth, and landed on the crowd below, causing more screaming. A repugnant, familiar stench wafted through the air, coming from the place where the projectile impacted the spectators.

“How could he slip by the guards?!” Kiyoteru wondered aloud, referring to the lone figure up in the roof, tirelessly throwing projectiles. “How can he hope to get away?!”

Kaito didn’t bother to answer. His eyes followed Gakupo as he briefly touched down on a balcony and then jumped towards a rooftop next to the building where Yu was positioned. Unfortunately, this time the warlord timed his next projectile correctly, and it hit Gakupo right in the face as he landed, covering him in the noxious potion. The impact, and likely the effects of the mixture as well, made Gakupo stagger dangerously over the roof tiles.

“No-!” Kaito disentangled himself from Kiyoteru and began to make his way through the plaza, closely followed by the healer.

Above, Yu quickly traded his projectiles for a kusarigama and threw the chain at Gakupo, catching one of his arms. The warlord pulled the chain with a roaring laugh, making the young man slide off the rooftop, sail the space between the two buildings and slam violently against the side of the old place where Yu was. The artist went completely still.

“No, hold your fire, you idiots! Even if you do get him, you’ll make him drop Kamui!” Somewhere in the crowd, Akito was shouting furiously at his troops. _Big help you all were_ , Kaito thought with resentment.

Yu began to haul Gakupo up, careful to stay in cover between the chimneys of the rooftop. Kaito was far from reaching even the middle of the plaza when Gakupo’s body reached the top. As soon as he was dragged past the edge, Gakupo suddenly sprang into action, leaping up and towards the surprised warlord. Before Yu could react, Gakupo slashed the air with his arm in a diagonal motion, and Yu’s body was cut into ribbons, sending chunks of flesh and blood flying everywhere. Even his armor and weapon were cleanly severed in pieces by the magical attack.

Many on the plaza screamed in horror at the disturbing sight. Gakupo landed on the very same spot Yu had been only seconds before, almost slipping on the gore at his feet. He barely seem aware that anything out of the ordinary had just happen.

Kaito stopped where he was, and Kiyoteru bumped into him. Like everyone in the plaza, they were paralyzed, observing the figure on the rooftop, wrapped in phantom lights.

Gakupo walked towards the edge of the roof, the remains of the chain dragging behind him. His face was obscured by his damp hair and the repellent mix of potion and blood that covered his skin and clothes. Many of the spectators began to run, trampling over others in their blind panic.

“Gakupo, it’s over! It’s ok now!” Kaito shouted as hard as he could, trying to get the youth’s attention. But he was uncertain that the sound even reached his ears, over the chaos of the plaza.

The artist slowly stretched out his hand towards the crowd below, more or less in the direction of the stage. Some people began to scream, afraid that he would use the same attack that killed Yu on them. But before Gakupo’s intentions became clearer, a crossbow bolt impacted his hand, lodging itself on his palm. Gakupo wobbled and almost fell off the building, before sinking down on his knees. His screams of pain were inarticulate, like the ones of a frightened animal.

“No!” Kaito cursed loudly and redoubled his efforts to cross the plaza. He barely paid any attention to Akito and his fight with the trigger-happy guard that fired on Gakupo, or any other of the many shouts assaulting his senses.

But before he could reach the building, Gakupo suddenly hopped away in the direction of the main road out of Gyuugan. Without stopping, the young man sailed through the air, quickly jumping from rooftop to rooftop.

“What is he doing?!” Kiyoteru had managed to stay behind Kaito, despite the disorder in the plaza.

“I don’t know!” Kaito replied, almost panicking himself. There was no way he could catch up to Gakupo on foot. And yet, he took off running, desperately following the trail of strange light. Kiyoteru ran after him.

By the time they reached the wide road, Gakupo was a distant star, a comet shooting right towards the east. Kaito stopped next to an arc celebrating a famous battle of the past, winded and holding his throbbing side.

Kiyoteru caught to him a few moments later, equally out of breath. “I- I don’t understand…” The healer leaned against the marble of the monument, unmindful of his elegant dark robes. “Where is he going?”

Kaito rubbed his temples. The events of the day had been more than sufficient to give him a magnificent migraine. He considered the clouded shape of the mountain range in the distance, frowning. “The ruins- Perhaps Gakupo went to the ruins on the mountains.”

“The old Meu Rehn settlements?” Kiyoteru pushed up his glasses quizzically. “In that condition?”

“He’s not acting rationally. That mixture Yu was throwing is some kind of mind-altering drug,” Kaito explained.

“Wonderful.” Kiyoteru shook his head. “I don’t suppose you can just fly us after him?”

_Like I wouldn’t have tried that already._ “No.” Kaito looked around, thinking. Most people on the road were still staring at the east in shock, their daily affairs forgotten. “We’ll need horses, if you are coming.”

“Of course I’m coming. That’s my patient _and_ a friend.” Kiyoteru scratched his head and added, “Though I’m a bit perplexed at what just happened, I must confess. Nevertheless, we should probably discuss it on the way back to my clinic. I’ll need my medical bag.”

“…I hate to let him get away like this.” Kaito gave a last look to the dimming light. “But you are right. Come on.”

As they walked past the perplexed crowds, Kaito felt his achy head and back get more and more sore with each step. It was going to be taxing to ride a horse under these conditions. Although, he was supposed to be dead with two arrows to the heart, so this was a marked improvement.

“I always thought the ones like you two didn’t have access to Meu Rehn magic,” Kiyoteru started.

“That’s what I thought as well, before I met Gakupo.”

“This might seem to be indelicate, but…How did Yu managed to hold him captive in the first place, if Gakupo is capable of _that_?” Kiyoteru moved his hand in the air, imitating Gakupo’s motions.

“He didn’t have any control of it before today. In fact…” Kaito trailed off, thinking. “Now I wonder…”

“What?”

“Yu was aware that Gakupo had latent powers. And he knew the magic manifested only when he was upset,” Kaito rubbed his head again, dearly wishing for the headache to stop. “He attacked _me_ , he wanted Gakupo to see _me_ die right next to him, just as he was celebrating his return to the stage.”

“So Yu was using you to break him emotionally,” Kiyoteru surmised. “Perhaps to get past whatever was blocking him from using magic consciously, like your ancestors.”

“Yes! He was even counting on it to escape, I bet. That drug, the previous time I saw it, Akano was using it to control Gakupo like a puppet.”

“He wanted to order Gakupo to kill the guards and anyone on the way…It sounds like a huge gamble to make.” Kiyoteru shook his head in disbelief.

“It’s just a theory. But there’s something else,” Kaito stated, thinking back to a conversation he and Gakupo had back at Benida. “I know that my mother was from Eto, and my father a mixed-blood. But Gakupo was just found on the wilderness. For all we know, he may not have Eto blood at all.”

“If he’s fully Meu Rehn, then it was just a matter of time for him to come into his powers. Yu just found the most abusive way of forcing him into it, then.” Kiyoteru sighed. “At least we are here,” he added when they reached his street.

Waiting at the door of the clinic, Kiyoteru and Kaito found Akito, standing cross-armed before the entrance. He looked at them, scowling.

“Didn’t you or your little boyfriend think it was relevant to say you have freaking magical powers?” He asked Kaito.

“I don’t,” Kaito replied coldly. “And neither Gakupo nor I knew the extent of his powers before today.”

“How could you not know?!”

“What, do you think mixed-bloods come with an instruction book under their arm when they are born?” _If Gakupo is even a mixed-blood in the first place,_ Kaito didn’t add.

“Enough of that, please…” Kiyoteru stood between the two men, raising his hands in a conciliatory manner. “Akito, we don’t have time for recriminations right now. We believe Gakupo is going to the old ruins up in the mountains, so we need provisions and a couple of horses.”

“Better make it three, then.”

“But you’re on duty,” Kiyoteru reminded him with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re nuts if you think I’m letting you go anywhere without me, Teru. I already asked Tohma to take care of the mess back at the old hall,” Akito answered, shooting a last dirty look at Kaito. The blue-haired man silently rolled his eyes at him.

“Well, if Kaito doesn’t have any objections…”

“I don’t care, I just want to get going.” Kaito waved his hand dismissively.

“Alright, let’s go inside then. I have to let the servants and Yuki know I’m going away for a couple of days.”

Kiyoteru and Akito entered the home. Kaito followed them, after glancing back at the silhouette of the mountains.

_Please hold on_ , he thought.


	16. Chapter 16

XVI

Kaito pulled down his fur-lined hood, shivering. Despite the supposed end of the cold season, the chilly wind was not letting up. Akito and Kiyoteru were similarly garbed in warm clothing, but they seemed less disturbed by the low temperature, probably owing to their many years living in Gyuugan.

The scene before the trio and their horses was quite desolate. The magnificent imperial road was in frank disrepair and had probably caused more than one wagon to break its axle. The lands on the left and right were mostly abandoned wildlands, except for isolated farmhouses and miniscule trading posts. Thankfully, each time Kaito and his companions stopped to talk to the peasants, they were able to confirm they were still on track.  

It was the middle of the afternoon when they reached a village at the foot of the mountains, an insignificant settlement with only five dingy houses and a dilapidated inn. In front of the latter, a homely woman was standing looking at the slopes, wringing her hands.

“The Spirit Lords are back, right? The trade is going to pick up again!” The woman exclaimed hopefully to Akito, when he dismounted to talk to her. She looked at his companions, and when he spotted the blue locks escaping from Kaito’s hood, she almost wept with happiness. “It’s been so long, my lord! Please, make this land prosperous again!”

Kaito stared at her blankly. What exactly was she expecting? That he and Gakupo would restart the forging and crafting trade? Not very likely. Still, he nodded at her, and that was enough for the woman to drop to her knees in worship. It soon was followed by other villagers doing the same thing, so Kaito was happy to leave the place behind.

“I don’t think it was fair to give them hope for a resurgence,” Akito commented on the way up.

Like everything else, the way to the ruined structures above had once been grandiose, but now the road was unkempt and marred by past rockslides.

“I didn’t know what to say,” Kaito replied.

“Akito! Kaito! Look!” Kiyoteru interrupted them, pointing up. They could see lights dancing inside the dark ruins of a massive stone building that seemed carved out from the mountain itself, a palace or a temple of some kind. The angle made it difficult to determine, but they appeared to be emanating from one of its terraces.

The glow was familiar to Kaito. He thought back to the mysterious ocean and its strange dweller. It ached to be reminded of his violent acts there, but the light probably meant that Gakupo was nearby, and so it was welcomed. Despite the long hours of pain and worry, Kaito smiled, hopeful. He was more than ready to curl up next to Gakupo and sleep for the next century or so.

“I’m coming,” he whispered.

The road made many more twists and turns alongside the steep side of the range before it reached a narrow mountain pass. The sides of the pass were decorated with strange carvings, mostly showing beasts that seemed as unlikely as the creature from the ocean of light. Unsurprisingly, there were depictions of beasts like it, many of them, and not even a single humanoid between them.

“What the hell are those things?” Akito wondered out loud. “The Meu Rehn had some weird tastes, man.”

Kaito looked at them in silence. He hadn’t bothered to describe his experience to Kiyoteru or his friend, in part because he had no clue of its meaning. Was that the real appearance of the Meu Rehn, and their human bodies only a disguise? Was it some kind of familiar connected to Gakupo but a different entity altogether? At first he had toyed with the idea that the sea and the creature had been a hallucination, a way for his mind to interpret the magic flowing through him when Gakupo saved his life. But these carvings proved that whatever it was, the beast was not a product of his imagination.

All that Kaito knew for certain was that the Meu Rehn had come from somewhere else entirely. Magic didn’t truly exist in the world, besides of the legends and myths of each country, before they made it concrete with their presence. Common interpretation was that they came from the stars, or were even the stars themselves, since their appearances where often preceded by shooting stars or meteor showers. But they had never deigned to be interrogated or studied, much to the frustration of the scholars of every city in the land.

Could it be possibly that the mages belonged to another completely different plane of existence? Kaito wasn’t much versed in theology, given his upbringing, but he had heard that some proposed that reality was composed of a set of different porous planes, and that the souls of the dead travelled from one to another, being reborn again under different guises. Others refused the idea of reincarnation entirely, claiming that all spheres of reality were isolated, except for extremely uncommon phenomena where the planes could meet, and when death took a soul to the underworld.

Perhaps the Meu Rehn could freely travel between realms, but were transformed by the passage from one reality to the next. Why Kaito himself hadn’t changed when he was transported to the other sea was a point against that theory, but he was far from an expert on arcane knowledge. He briefly wondered if Gakupo knew more, or he had just acted on instinct.

The walls of the pass receded, revealing a narrow valley surrounded by carefully terraced slopes. The buildings lined along the path were certainly deserted and gloomy, but they were so breathtaking that the trio stopped in awed silence to watch the scenery, ignoring the worsening weather conditions.

This was a town built with magic. There was no other explanation for the tall, delicate structures that seemed almost organic with their flowing lines and intricate carvings. There was a hint to the undulating columns, a call back to sleek invertebrate forms, to coral reefs and luminescent beings silently waiting in the depths. Even the broken lattices everywhere seemed beautiful in their imperfection. In fact, despite those touches of neglect, the buildings looked surprisingly well-preserved, another hint that some power had been laced into them at the moment of their construction. The mountain flora had done little to overtake them, despite the lack of gardeners, and there were no fractures populated with grass or moss under the horses’ hooves.

It was difficult to believe that the place had been empty for decades. It wouldn’t have surprised Kaito to find Gakupo surrounded by his peers, smiling and playfully scolding him for his lateness.

But the trio remained engulfed in silence, and no one appeared before them. They reached a monument decorated with many odd beasts which seemed to mark the center of the cross-shaped settlement. To their right, the road almost immediately sank into the mountain itself, into what seemed to be an artificial cavern. Perhaps it was the zone the Meu Rehn devoted to forging and crafting materials, if the buildings around the cave were any indication.

Given its position, the road in the opposite direction led to the lofty palace they had seen earlier. It was curved and sloped, and somewhat narrower than the road Kaito, Kiyoteru, and Akito had taken. A statue stood where it diverged from the main street, the very first humanoid figure Kaito had seen in the whole settlement. He guided his horse to take a closer look, feeling his heart pounding in his chest.

The figure had long hair, and wore intricate robes that once had been decorated with jewels. The jewels had been taken away by raiders, and all that remained were the holes in the stone. Yet the figure’s face remained fixed in a calm, undisturbed smile. There were some evidence of offerings at the statue’s feet.

“Gakupo really looks like his ancestors,” Akito commented, approaching.

“…Yeah, he does,” Kaito replied mutedly. “Let’s hurry.”

“Right, the weather is getting worse.” Akito pointed up, though neither of his companions really needed the remainder.

“We’ll have to take shelter in one of these buildings, probably at the temple we saw, since we are going that way,” Kiyoteru told them from a few steps back.

Kaito nodded, and spurred his horse. No more wasting time, he had to find Gakupo before the temperature dropped any further.

A few minutes later, the trio reached the imposing building at the end of the road. Even upon closer inspection, the question of whether the big structure was a temple or a palace wasn’t settled on Kaito’s mind. Whatever it was, it probably served as the seat of power of the community that once lived here. The trio dismounted and guided the horses through empty, cavernous rooms, populated only by more carvings.

Nothing gave any indication of the true purpose of the space, since no furniture or tools were left. Kaito remembered his earlier hopes of finding something here to learn about magic, and suppressed a laugh. How foolish he had been to expect anything from this marble shell.

As they moved towards the side overlooking the valley, the grandiose halls and patios gave way to more simple rooms and hallways. Finally, the trio found a section that seemed more hospitable, perhaps once used to house servants. There was an interior courtyard with a well that seemed sheltered enough to protect the horses from the cold, several small bedrooms and a round living room with a fire pit in a sunken section of the floor.

“This looks like a good place to stay,” Kiyoteru remarked. “You two investigate the terrace with the lights, I’ll start a fire and boil some water.”

“Right.” Akito picked up one of the blankets from their pile of packs and bedrolls in a corner and slung it over a shoulder. “Gakupo might need this.”

“Good thinking,” Kaito approved. He tried the door at the far end of the chamber, and discovered it led to a long hallway that seemed to cross the entire back of the palace. “Come on.”

Like everything else in the place, the corridor was completely bare and unlit, except from the pallid light that came in whenever the wall opened up to ornate balconies over the dizzying chasm.

“I bet none of them feared heights, eh?” Akito commented. “Then again, if I could jump like your buddy I wouldn’t worry either.”

“Hm…Ah, we’re coming to the main terrace, I think,” Kaito replied, distracted. He hastened his steps, smiling involuntarily. In the wall opposite the doorway ahead, there was a slight watery reflection. _I’m here._

The doorway in question was one of many that lead into a big semicircular section of rock, jutting out from the face of the mountain. There were more statues here and an elaborate altar of some sort, but the most eye-catching feature of the terrace was a round pool, incongruously luminous and lit from within. Kaito briefly wondered if it was a gateway to the mysterious sea, before he noticed a figure huddled between the altar and the pool, his own luminescence dwarfed by the glow of the water.

“Gakupo!” Kaito shouted and rushed towards the immobile youth. The artist was lying on his side, his face hidden by dirty locks of hair. The length of chain was still tangled around his arm, and it tinkled harshly when Kaito untangled it and dropped it on the ground. “He’s so cold…”

“Here,” Akito unfolded the blanket he was carrying. However, Kaito didn’t look at him, busy as he was examining Gakupo’s hands. Even putting aside the wound on his palm, there was something seriously wrong with them. They were completely covered in dark splotches, almost completely black in the afternoon light. Kaito pulled up his sleeve, and saw the arm had several more spots, all the way to the elbow. He cursed, shaken. “What in the world is this?!”

“What the-! Teru needs to see that right away! Let me carry him, you look about ready to drop yourself.” Akito crouched, and Kaito helped him get Gakupo on his back. “Guh, he stinks.”

“It’s the drug Yu was using…and Yu himself as well, I guess.”

“Don’t remind me. I’m going to have nightmares about it tonight, mark my words.” Akito rose up and took off at a measured pace towards the servant’s quarters. Kaito followed him closely, keeping the blanket over Gakupo’s shoulders with his hands.

Kiyoteru was preparing the bedrolls when they entered the room. The fire was already cracking happily in the fire pit, and over it, Kiyoteru had two pots hanging from a spit.

“Here, put him here!” Kiyoteru pointed towards the bedroll closest to the fire. Akito laid Gakupo down with Kaito’s help, and the healer immediately began to examine the young man with a serious expression on his face.

“What’s up with his fingers? Is that frostbite?” Kaito asked anxiously.

Kiyoteru shook his head slightly, examining the blackened skin with a pensive expression. He cautiously pressed a spot with his finger. “No…there’s something else at work here, I think. I need to observe him for a while before I settle on a treatment. But first, help me take his costume off and clean him up a bit. The water is warm already.”

Kaito obeyed, undressing Gakupo down to his knee-length pants and tossing the ruined finery aside. Meanwhile, Kiyoteru grabbed one of the pots and some towels.

“I’ll go toss this off somewhere,” offered Akito, grabbing the offending costume at arm’s length. “You brought him another set of clothes, right?” After Kaito’s nod, the soldier walked out, rushing to get rid of his cargo.

The other two cleaned Gakupo as best as possible, revealing skin as pale as paper, with several abrasions in his face and arms. He didn’t move once during the process, which only exacerbated Kaito’s worry.

“It doesn’t look nice, but at least the bolt didn’t hit the ulmar artery,” Kiyoteru mumbled, dabbing Gakupo’s hand with a damp rag.

“Hm? Is that good?”

“Very good,” Kiyoteru stated, applying some ointment to the wound. He then bandaged the palm.

Kaito exhaled. “Why isn’t he waking up?”

“It could be a number of things. There’s the exposure to the cold, for one. And remember his existing head injury.” Kiyoteru piled another blanket on top of Gakupo’s prone form. “It could even be exhaustion or shock from using his powers fully for the first time. Let him sleep for a while.” The healer stood and went to check on the other pot.

“Right,” Kaito agreed, looking down at Gakupo. He brushed off the bangs from his forehead and bent down to kiss it, letting his lips linger on the skin. _Please, get better,_ he said on his thoughts several times, like a charm. He then laid down next to Gakupo, carefully pulling him close and pulling the blankets over the both of them.

Akito returned, sniffing his fingers. “Vilu’s tail, that stench is so disgusting! I washed my hands several times and I can still smell it.”

Kiyoteru watched him with amusement, dropping some chopped vegetables inside the pot still hanging from the spit. “You gave him a piggyback ride, Akito. You got some of the gunk on your cape.”

“Oh, for the love of—! You’re right, of course. I hope it goes away when I wash it,” Akito threw the garment across the room, and grabbed a blanket to cover his shoulders. Kiyoteru only smiled in response.

“So now, just wait until morning, right?” The soldier jumped down on the sunken portion of the floor and sat in one the benches lining its sides, crossing his arms.

“Pretty much. Let us hope the weather doesn’t get any worse, though. We didn’t bring enough things for an extended stay.” The healer began to unpack some boxes of rice.

Kaito only listened to the pair half-heartedly. Even though he was hungry, the events of the day had been so overwhelming that his eyelids felt as heavy as the mountains themselves. Gradually, the snatches of conversation between the two of them became more and more disjointed as he drifted in and out of sleep.

The wind was howling violently, causing the trees outside to creak and bang against the walls of the stone palace. It sounded like an angry horde, coming to exact vengeance on him for his many transgressions.

Some indefinite time later, Kaito opened his eyes, feeling a bit more refreshed. Nearby, Kiyoteru and Akito were resting peacefully, their bedrolls side to side. The shadows were more profound, thanks to a subdued fire. Close to Kaito’s head, there was bowl of fruit and a food box. His stomach growled loudly at the sight of them.

“Sounds like you missed a meal or three,” Gakupo whispered, startling him. After a long moment, he opened his eyes, looking at Kaito with the tiniest of smiles. Even those small movements seemed to require a big effort, and his eyes were remote and unfocused.

“Gakupo…” Kaito caressed his cheek. There were many things he wanted to say, and even more to ask, but staring into those calm, unfathomable eyes seemed to have erased language itself from his mind. With a start, Kaito realized his irises were the exact color of the pool outside.

“Many things have changed, and yet we find ourselves at the same conclusion. Perhaps I am meant to die at your feet no matter what, Ao,” Gakupo continued in the same paused, almost emotionless tone.

Kaito’s heart almost gave out at the words. Gakupo waited, as if making sure the words sank down fully, and then closed his eyes again, fatigued. “Yes, I remember now. It all came back to me in a jumble, when I saw you fall from the stage. I couldn’t make sense of all of these memories, and I had no time for it. All I knew is that I had to save you.”

“But now I’ve had some time to think clearly. There’s something I need to tell you, while I still can,” Gakupo paused again, and some emotion returned to his eyes. “I’m glad I had the chance to be with you again, and see you unfettered. I’m glad we could live together as Kaito and Gakupo, at peace with each other.”

Kaito finally found his tongue, and so he babbled, trying to fight the ominous feeling that Gakupo’s words emanated. “D-Don’t speak like that. Kiyoteru is here, he’ll patch you up and-“

“He can’t help me,” Gakupo interrupted him with an air of finality. “What happened over there can’t be fixed in Eto.”

“You mean what _I_ did to you,” Kaito blurted out scrunching his face. “You were that beast, weren’t you?”

“Beast?” Gakupo raised an eyebrow. Kaito immediately started to backtrack, but the artist cut him off, with a sense of authority that had never been there before. “If I looked like a beast to you, call me a beast. No need to apologize.”

“No need to apologize?! _I maimed you!_ ” Kaito sobbed. So much for protecting the people he loved, again.

“You didn’t know any better,” Gakupo replied quietly. “But you can help me now, if…”

“If what? What can I do?”

“If you allow me to take back my promise,” Gakupo said, after some hesitation. “Those were not mere words, when I said I would always return to you. It was a covenant. Without its magic, my soul would’ve been lost when I first died in this land. But that’s also what keeps me from staying in the ocean of light, where I can heal.” He paused yet again, strangely reticent. “I’m not strong enough to fight the pull of the covenant for long.”

“Then take me with you!”

“There’s nothing to sustain you there.” Gakupo briefly moved his head, a movement that could with generosity be interpreted as a shake.

“Then…I release you from your promise,” Kaito said brokenly. It was like razors coming out of his throat, but it had to be done. “Leave.”

Gakupo shivered for a moment, letting out a long breath of air. “It’s done. It’s severed.” A small smile appeared on his lips. “You didn’t hesitate at all.”

Kaito rubbed his teary eyes. “What other choice is there? All I want is for you to be safe.”

There was no reply to that. Instead, the youth seemed to be listening to the howling wind outside, or perhaps to another sound only he could perceive. “Can you take me back to the pool? I need to go.”

Gakupo’s body seem lighter than ever, when Kaito picked him up, almost as if a good part of him was already gone. Kaito glanced at Kiyoteru and Akito, but they were still asleep, despite his loud cries.

“This is between the two of us,” Gakupo whispered into his ear.

The walk back to the terrace almost felt like the walk to his own execution. The halls were completely dark, aside from the shimmer surrounding Gakupo. Halfway to the main terrace, Kaito realized he had no lamp or torch for the way back, but he didn’t return to the round room. The last thing he wanted was to prolong this any further, or he wouldn’t resist the need to beg Gakupo to stay and work out another solution. But he couldn’t bind Gakupo to him and Eto again.

“I think I know now what happened that night in the square,” Gakupo muttered along the way. “It seems so distant now. I had no idea that the people in Eto shed the memories of their past lives, when I spoke to you that night.”

“Meu Rehn don’t?”

“We are born as pristine as you, but as our powers grow, it all begins to come back. No, not everything, just the most important memories. No one could withstand it otherwise.”

“Could you help me remember?” Kaito asked, diverting his eyes to look outside through one of the doorways. A cold drizzle was drenching the balcony, but outside of the sphere of light around them, the whole world seemed completely drowned in darkness.

“Your life as Ao? Why?”

“I want to know exactly what I did.”

“It won’t bring you any peace,” Gakupo argued, pressing his forehead against Kaito’s neck. He clearly disliked the idea. “I shouldn’t have called you by that name. You are so different now.”

“Please, I need this. Don’t leave me emptyhanded.”

Gakupo cringed, but he didn’t reply. He stayed severe and stubbornly silent the rest of the way.

The pool of crystalline water seemed even more unreal in the middle of the night, burning blue-green like a witching cauldron. It bathed its surroundings with phosphorescence, beckoning Kaito and Gakupo as the wind and rain slapped them from all directions, and the night itself seemed to roar.

Kaito lowered Gakupo into a sitting position next to the pool, and kneeled beside him. “Please, I need to know,” he repeated.

“Kaito...” The artist’s face was back to what Kaito had always known, tender and lovely. If the Envoy was somewhere inside of him, it was in a deep, untouched place. “Could you do something for me in exchange?”

“Anything you want.”

“Find my Father. Keep him safe.”

Kaito nodded, pointlessly rubbing his face.

Gakupo smiled again, softly. “Press my hand against your forehead.”

Kaito silently complied. The touch made his skin tingle strangely. Once again, he felt something change inside of him, the effect expanding through his body like a ripple.

“It won’t come back all at once, but you’ll find out what you wish to know. I just hope that’s really what you want.”

“…Thank you.” In other circumstances, perhaps Kaito would’ve laughed at his own voice, choked up and shaky.

“It’s time now. Help me.”

The haze around Gakupo’s legs grew stronger when they dipped into the water. As more and more of his body became submerged, the lights seem to solidify around him, even as his contours became blurry. Ultimately, only his head and shoulders were above the surface, in the middle of a circle of milky radiance. Kaito laid on his stomach and reached out to touch his face one last time, fighting the urge to pull him back into his arms.

He had no words left. For the first time he was able to properly say goodbye to someone he loved, and he couldn’t find anything to summon up his feelings.

“Kaito, I can’t say I’ll return. You understand why, right?” Gakupo waited for Kaito to nod before he continued, “But I won’t forget about you. You are a good man.” Gakupo's smile faded, seemingly worried by what he was seeing in Kaito’s eyes. “I love you.” Abruptly, he tilted his head backwards, away from Kaito’s hands, and sank into the water. The light became a wavering sphere that descended quickly, impossibly deep, far beyond the floor of the terrace where only air should be. Halfway down the distance to the valley, it cracked like an egg, letting out a brightly lit creature of colored glass. Its crippled tendrils shed purple crystals as they moved, but it still swam away slowly, until it was out of sight.


	17. Chapter 17

XVII

Kaito stayed where he was for a long time, damp and cold. The stones under him stung his cheek with icy needles when he laid down his head, but he made no effort to move.

He was done. If there was such a thing as fate, he wanted out of her games, forever. For a few tantalizing seconds, he considered the long drop to the valley below. In a murky, newly rustled part of him, he saw himself falling into an ocean of flames, laughing.

Was _that_ how he died? Why was he so happy, then? There was nothing else to the memory, no explanations, no matter how hard Kaito tried to remember. Just the sweet feeling of release, the satisfaction of finally escaping the palace and his life as Ao.

But Kaito had a job to do. He dragged himself into a kneeling position and examined the darkness around him. The glow of the pool beside him was just enough to see the massive structure of the palace, but it wouldn’t help him once he reached the walls, or its inner corridors. Still, even getting lost inside of it was better than staying out there in the rain.

He rose and walked towards the spot where he imagined the doorway to be. Indifferently, he noticed that the headache he had been feeling since the fall in the plaza was gone. After stumbling over a couple of steps, Kaito reached the outer wall. He stretched his hand out like a blind man and touched the uninterrupted surface. Wrong place. He turned to look in both directions, but the night was thick and dark as ink.

All he had to do was pick one direction and follow the wall, he told himself. Not that he had much luck lately with making snap judgements.

Before he could decide, he heard the healer’s voice calling out his and Gakupo’s name. It was to the right. Kaito turned and walked, dragging his fingers along the wall. A couple of minutes later, he was before Kiyoteru.

“What happened to you? Where’s Gakupo, did he run away again?” Kiyoteru asked, peering at him with concern. The lantern he was carrying casted animated shadows on the walls and floor of the corridor as it swung from his hand.

“He went home,” Kaito replied flatly. Even those simple words ached so much he never wanted to speak again.

“Home? You mean…with the other Meu Rehn?”

 _Yes, the others will be there to aid him_ , Kaito supposed. He nodded with apathy. The former bandit could only guess what the mages would think of the fact his prince was returning to them in such a shape.

Kiyoteru looked at him with pity. “Come on, you need to get out of those clothes or you’ll get sick.”

True, Kaito needed to stay healthy in order to look for Gakuto Kamui. He followed Kiyoteru back to the round room, without saying anything and trying hard to keep his mind blank. It wasn’t easy, since his brain seemed convinced it was the perfect time to dust off every memory he had of the last months. _We still have him here_ , it seemed to say, brandishing every single one of Gakupo’s smiles, every silent look they once shared. Colorful, precious images flashed in his mind’s eye: Gakupo’s hair whipping around his head as he danced, his nervous yet trusting expression when they first laid together, the way his eyes glinted innocently when he spoke of something he liked. But what purpose did it serve? All of those memories would fade away with time. Gakupo would leave him once more: Kaito would forget the lines of his body, the sound of his laugh, everything but the broadest strokes of what made him who he was.

Kaito smiled bitterly, amused at his own foolishness. Why had he expected their love to last? No one ever stayed with him. It wasn’t their fault, and this time it was truer than ever. But they still left him behind to fend on his own, time after time.

Akito wasn’t around, when they reached the room.

“I asked him to check on the horses and the front of the palace, just in case,” Kiyoteru explained and rekindled the fire.

Kaito sat down in one of the benches in front of the fire pit, noting how quickly the seat became drenched with the drops falling from his coat. His pants and boots were similarly soaked, but he remained where he was, unmoving. It wasn’t due to modesty, given that Kiyoteru probably knew how his patients looked without a shirt or pants on. But even knowing that he needed to keep his strength up to fulfill his promise, he was having trouble finding any motivation to care about his health.

He watched indifferently as even more drops fell from his hair to the ground, immersed in his thoughts. In all likelihood, Gakuto was long dead. But Kaito had to go to the ruins of Bou and see if anyone still lived there, to confirm it. Once he arrived at some conclusion, he would be free to decide what to do with his life…or if he wanted one at all.

Suddenly, his view was partially blocked by an off-white towel. Before he knew it, Kiyoteru was silently drying off his hair.

 _Well, he’s used to caring after Yuki_ , Kaito mused. _And she seems more capable and wise than what I feel right now, no wonder he’s treating me like a small child_.

“Would you mind me telling you a story, Kaito?” Kiyoteru whispered. He continued without waiting for a reply, “I told you that I visited other city-estates, right? I visited the south when Yu was first starting to gather power. I learnt many things treating actual diseases down there, things I never even heard about in the college.”

“Now, there was someone in one town, her name was Iroha. Oh, she was the most beautiful and kind girl I had ever met. I immediately knew I wanted to bring her back with me, as my bride. You may call it rash…we were both really young. But I knew she was the one. Her parents consented, they were delighted to have her wed to a healer like me.”

“However, travelling the southern roads was perilous, so I left her there, while I continued my trip. I promised Iroha I’d come back for her soon.” With Kaito’s blue locks suitably dried, Kiyoteru kneeled in front of him, trying to meet his eyes. “What do you think happened then?”

“His troops razed that town.” Kaito muttered. He didn’t even need Kiyoteru’s small nod. “What are you trying to say here, that I’m lucky because Gakupo is alive out there somewhere?”

“Misery is not a competition, Kaito,” Kiyoteru scolded him gently. “I tell you this because Iroha loved me, and she gave me things I’ll keep with me all my life. It would be a disservice to her memory to dwell only on what separated us. It’s the same for you and Gakupo.”

“No, no it isn’t! It’s all my fault he’s gone!” Kaito shouted, enraged.

“…What do you mean?”

Kaito let out a big sigh. What did it matter, whether Kiyoteru understood or not? But some part of him wanted to explain just so that others would mock him. He deserved it. So he expounded about the events in the plaza, or more accurately, in the ocean of light.

“So those wounds were some kind of reflection of the damage you did to his extraplanar form,” Kiyoteru commented afterwards, rubbing his chin. Contrary to Kaito’s more masochistic tendencies, the bespectacled man didn’t seem all that scandalized over his actions.

“His what?”

“It’s a theory some have about the Meu Rehn. It claims that they can exist in several planes at once, their different aspects linked together through magic. And so, even when they are mainly in one realm, a subtle essence remains in others. That allows them to manifest properties from other planes here and to bend the way our reality works.”

“If you say so…”

At that moment, Akito entered the room, carrying a lantern of his own. He looked at the two sitting by the fire pit with surprise. “Hm, where’s Kamui?”

“He went back to the place of origin of the mages,” Kiyoteru quickly explained. How simple it sounded. Even if it was anything but simple and painless.

“Oh…” Akito looked at Kaito, who averted his eyes. The last thing he wanted was the redhead’s pity. Thankfully, all the soldier did was sit down by the fire.

“Kaito, you need to change out of those clothes, I mean it. Gakupo will be mad at me if I let you catch a cold.”

“…Fine.” Kaito had enough conversation for the night, in any case. He undressed and got back inside the bedroll. The makeshift bed was still vaguely warm. He shut his eyes, ignoring the sound of Kiyoteru picking up his clothes to dry, and his whispered conversation with Akito.

Despite his expectations, he immediately began to feel sleepy. And it was in that state, between alertness and unconsciousness, that Gakupo’s gift began to operate again, populating his mind with memories of the time he nominally held all the power of Eto. The heartbroken man took a step back and someone else appeared, youthful and ignorant.

***

“Is it really necessary to cling to me so tightly? I’m not going to go away, I told you,” the Envoy stated in his even voice, looking down at Ao.

The young emperor grinned, not easing his grip on the man’s arm one bit. The Envoy was going to stay. He was going to stay, despite how clumsily Ao had handled their first night together. How could the man expect Ao to show restraint, when he couldn’t remember the last time he had been so happy?

They were in the gardens, walking alongside a long rectangular pool. The crystalline waters glinted, reflecting the lights that always cocooned the Envoy, and the pebbles under his feet sometimes shone blue green, as if they were part of a tropical seabed. Ao managed to glimpse a servant or two hidden in the nearby foliage, watching the mage with astonishment.

 _And he’s mine_ , Ao thought contently. But not in the servile way most people that surrounded him behaved. Even his coldness was somewhat alluring, now that the emperor didn’t have to fear the man would run away from him. The Envoy was an amusing puzzle to be deciphered, something to finally awake Ao from the lonely somnolence that engulfed him.

“At what time do you meet with your ministers?” The Envoy asked. “You aren’t neglecting your duties because of me, are you?”

“They meet every morning after breakfast…but I don’t go every day, it’s so tedious.” Ao shrugged. No one ever took his suggestions seriously, in any case. And just listening to the ministers endlessly drone on was enough to put him to sleep.

The Envoy frowned and seemed to be about to retort, but then just shook his head silently.

“If you are tired of walking, I can arrange for a concert in the South Wind Pavilion,” Ao proposed.

“I’d like to see the quarters for my companions and myself first.”

“Your faceless escorts? I made sure they were given space in the servant’s wing. I don’t go there. As for you…you don’t need a bed of your own, do you?” Ao’s eyes glittered as much as the waters by his feet, anticipating the evening.

The Envoy frowned again, his eyes facing away in clear discomfort. Ao suppressed a giggle. It was nothing short of adorable to see a grown man like the Envoy be so bashful about it. And yet, the mage had let himself wide open when he offered Ao whatever he wanted in exchange for lands and protection. Obviously, he meant it in terms of magical wonders, but there was no way he could’ve have missed the way Ao was looking at him. Whatever the case, the emperor made it clear that he would accept nothing but the Envoy himself, and so here they were, arm in arm.

Now that Ao thought about it, he didn’t have to wait for the evening either. He pulled the Envoy in the direction of his rooms. Music and everything else could wait.

The emperor had a whole section of the palace for himself. No one slept there but him, unless he brought in concubines or visitors of his own choosing. His guards patrolled the outer corridors, and there was a chamberlain waiting at the Dusk Door at all times, if Ao ever felt the need for his services, but that was it.

Given the hour and Ao’s absence, the servants were busy cleaning the airy, beautiful rooms, but he unceremoniously ordered them all to go away and leave him and the Envoy alone.

“Let’s sit here, Envoy.” The sliding door of his bedroom was open, leading to a narrow corridor and a square sunken yard with a pond. Ao plopped down on the corridor floor and dangled his legs over the ledge. The Envoy sat gracefully by his side.

“Do you have many visitors here, Ao?” The Envoy asked quietly after a while.

“When I was younger, noble families used to send their children to play with me sometimes. Most of them didn’t like me, though. They said I was weird.”

“And now?”

“Hm, they still send me partners here and there, when their families want some favor from me. They are even more reluctant to play with me these days.” Ao allowed himself a laugh. “What does it matter, though? I have you now to keep me company.”

“I’ll need to go back to my people sooner or later,” the Envoy pointed out.

“No,” Ao replied. The sooner the Envoy understood how things worked, the better.

“Why do you want me? Your Eto is full of people wishing to worship you,” the man knitted his brows.

And that was supposed to mean what to Ao, exactly? Nobody he had ever met could compare to the dazzling creature by his side. “Is it?” Without waiting for an answer, Ao kneeled and circled the Envoy’s neck with his arms. “Say you love me.”

“What?” The Envoy’s bright blue-green eyes widened.

“Say you love me. Say ‘Ao, I love you, please love me back.’” The emperor grinned.

“I barely know you,” the man noted with a cautious tone.

“So what? We can know each other later.”

“I won’t say words I don’t feel.”  

Ao gave him a shove, with cheeks flushed. “I order you to like me, then. I want to hear you say you love me, right now. Aren’t you afraid of my wrath?”

“You wouldn’t harm me,” the Envoy replied indifferently.

“What about your nice settlement? What do I care about any of them?” Ao hissed. He didn’t really mean it, but that was the easy way to get to the Envoy, and he had no talent for subtlety.

The Envoy watched him in silence for a few seconds. Then, suddenly, he pulled Ao towards him and made him sit in his lap. Ao’s surprised yelp was cut off when the Envoy’s mouth covered his own. Just as abruptly, the man’s hands slipped under Ao’s robes, exploring him, teasing him.

“This is what you _really_ want, yes?” The Envoy broke the kiss to whisper into his ear, without stopping his movements. “Why bother with words?”

Ao panted, arching his back. The man had a point, admittedly. He undid his sash and let his robes slip off his shoulders, to better see what the Envoy was doing to his body.

“Is your Imperial Majesty still angered?” the man asked in the same opaque, whispering voice.

“No…this, this feels good,” Ao mumbled, looking down at the man’s hands stroking him up and down. “More, more!”

“I’ll follow your commands faithfully.”

“Y-yes…” The sensation made Ao feel almost dizzy. He leaned forward and kissed the Envoy unskillfully, almost bumping their heads together.

“I assume that you are trying to kiss me? If so, please don’t start biting me. It isn’t particularly arousing,” the Envoy stated in an incongruously calm and clinical voice, given the circumstances. For something that looked and should’ve felt like an intimate encounter, Ao was beginning to find it oddly similar to a session with one of his tutors. Not that he would’ve minded it if more of his classes were like this. He laughed at the mental image.

The Envoy caught Ao’s chin with one of his hands, and stared severely into his eyes. “You will listen to what I’m telling you. I’m not just your toy.”

Ao nodded impatiently. “Of course, of course. Teach me how you like it.”

The purple haired man watched him with bemusement, but then brought their faces together. His kiss was soft at first, but with each further touch he probed the emperor’s mouth deeper, using his tongue and lips with slowly simmering passion.

Soon, too soon, the man pulled back, observing him coldly. “Show me.”

Ao smiled, leaning once more. His lips crashed in a slightly odd angle against the Envoy’s face, a bit too hard, but he quickly corrected himself. He tried to follow the same curve of increasing force, though it was increasingly difficult to control his body. Frustratingly, he had to pull back to breathe long before he had enough of the taste of the man’s mouth.

“That’s better.” The Envoy looked almost pleased, for once, and it made Ao feel jubilant. “…You’re almost there already, aren’t you?”

Ao nodded, though it was hardly necessary given the moans escaping his lips. He closed his eyes, running his hands through the Envoy’s long purple hair ceaselessly, as the pressure grew more and more inside of him. There was something new there, deep in his chest, a feeling the Envoy placed. The young emperor had no time to fully examine it, though, before he threw his head back, almost slipping from his place in the Envoy’s lap. The man kept him steady with one hand, the other still working his flesh until Ao was spent.  

The Envoy lowered them both to the floor, with Ao on top. His arms held the emperor tightly, the fabric of his robes cool against the youth’s skin. The fabric of a sleeve rustled, as one of his hands began to trace circles in Ao’s back.

“Can you tell me something about your homeland, Envoy?” Ao managed to blurt out after a while. Why he waited so long to ask, he had no idea, but he decided to indulge his curiosity.

The Envoy took his time to answer. Ao was feeling almost drowsy by the time the calm voice muttered, “My homeland…”

“Go on.”

“My home is the endless aquamarine, the interstice between two veils embroidered with countless stars. My home is the strong current, the long song of silver bells and dying suns. Their melody pulses inside of me, it stiches my heart to the wave that flings me back and forth, and I pulse with it, in reverent echo. My home is everywhere and nowhere, the cathedral with ten thousand pillars of light. My home is the might, the cavernous roar that makes me sway, the whirling touch of bubbles, and the eternal place of transit.”

“I don’t understand.”

The Envoy continued, but it barely seemed like a reply to Ao anymore. “Transit to the stars, and across them, crashing into shores of harsh reality. I was a golem once, when I left the water. I sailed a dark place, the song swallowed and dwarfed by its emptiness. Then I fell into the water once more, and it filled my heart.”

“Envoy…?”

“I was a crawling animal once, when I left the water. I crossed the garden, and wrapped myself around a rose, so that her thorns would pierce me. There is no pain in the ocean. But she showed me pain, graciously. The song marked the pace, as my blood dripped onto the ground. Then I fell into the water once more, and it filled my heart.”

Ao lifted his head from the Envoy’s chest and watched him with puzzlement. The man’s eyes were unnaturally bright, and for the first time the youth felt a bit scared of the mage. But there was nothing menacing about him: his face was as placid as ever, with a small mysterious smile. A hand caressed Ao’s cheek, and the emperor could sense his own scent on the Envoy’s skin.

“What will you show me, before the ocean claims me again?”

Ao stared silently. This Envoy was much more intimidating than the severe, reticent but still attainable man of before. And yet, he also wanted to own him more than ever. He just needed to bring him down to a level he could understand.

“You won’t return. Ever. Forget about all that rubbish.” Flowery and meaningless as his words were, it still sounded like an attempt to escape him.

The Envoy’s eyes lost their brilliance, just as sudden as blowing out a candle. It sent a chill down Ao’s spine, a most pleasing sensation. He could hurt the Envoy. He could make him crawl. He could do anything he wanted with him, and to him. What a wonderful power to have, complete control over a thing this beautiful.

But he wouldn’t push too far. The Envoy had used the words gracious, just now. Well, Ao could be gracious. He would love the Envoy, and take care of him and his people. All he wanted in return was a little affection.

***

 _It won’t bring you any peace_ , Gakupo had said. The words from the previous night echoed inside Kaito’s head, like the tolling of a distant bell, as he stared at the walls of the round room from the warmth of his bedroll. Kiyoteru and Akito were still snoring peacefully nearby.

Kaito felt poisoned. He knew already that Ao was egotistical and spoiled. Yet carrying inside of him the memory of the pride Ao felt over forcing the Envoy to be with him was like filling his gut with the foulest of mucks. It was truly a blessing that he had ended up not eating anything the night before, given how his innards felt now. The worst thing was that the young emperor didn’t even seem to realize his acts were twisted, or that they could make the Envoy hate him.

Did Gakupo remember any of it? He had to, but it made no sense to Kaito that he would continue to profess any love for him after regaining his memories. Perhaps Gakupo was just trying to assuage him until he could get away from Kaito. He balled his fists listlessly at the thought, but it made sense. He wasn’t a good man, not at all.

_And you are now finally safe, away from me and this awful world. It must’ve been nerve-wrecking, to depend on me to send you back. I’m so sorry…_


	18. Chapter 18

XVIII

It was easy to leave the nice house behind and head south. Kaito felt little attachment to it, now that Gakupo was gone. The capable servant couple already ran everything almost by themselves, in any case, and Kiyoteru could be trusted to take care of anything else. So the very next morning after his return, Kaito walked back to the healer’s house, a backpack hanging from his back and a new sword tied to his belt. The master of the house received him in his study, a room packed full with scrolls, books and a thousand bottles of many kinds.

“Take care of this for me, ok?” Kaito placed the house keys on Kiyoteru’s hand.

“You look terrible. Did you sleep at all last night?” Kiyoteru adjusted his glasses, examining his face.

“Yeah, I did.” Truth be told, Kaito’s sleeping problems had returned, and worse than ever. Every time he began to feel drowsy, images of fire and blood filled his mind, disjointed and terrifying. Even when he managed to fall asleep, soon his dream was warped into a horrible image: the Envoy crumpled on the floor, the entire front of his robes tinged dark with something that could only be blood.

“You should stay with us a couple of days, at least until you feel better. Yuki and I, we’ll be happy to have you around,” Kiyoteru proposed, lines of worry creasing his brow.

“Thanks, but it isn’t necessary. I’m perfectly healthy,” Kaito said, unmoved.

“You know what I mean.”

“Then it’s even more pointless to stay. I can’t run around this damned city and pretend nothing’s changed.”

“I’m not asking you to ignore the issue. Quite the contrary,” Kiyoteru replied stubbornly, placing a hand on Kaito’s shoulder.

Kaito looked at the appendage with disinterest. “You’re quite meddlesome for someone so insipid. You must think yourself to be very cunning, though, given that it was you that suggested drawing Yu here in the first place.”

“You have no right to blame me for Gakupo’s absence, if that’s what you’re implying!” Kiyoteru pushed up his glasses indignantly, but the comment seemed to have struck a nerve, for he stepped away from Kaito.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.” Kaito shrugged and headed for the door, grateful for Yuki’s absence. “We’ll see each other again, if I find Gakupo’s dad.” He didn’t intend to come back to Gyuugan if the great artist was deceased.

Kaito headed directly for the docks, watching the ships. One in particular caught his attention, given the golden-haired goddess featured in his figurehead. It was the _Sweet Ann_ , the ship that brought him and Gakupo to Gyuugan in the first place. It made sense, he supposed, given that this was a usual route for them, to eventually see the ship again.

He still didn’t know who had told Akano where to find them. His detailed journal only spoke of an unkempt sailor, so that narrowed it to someone from the crew. Kaito briefly imagined himself pummeling Leon or Tonio for answers, only for Al to pop up and tear him apart like a piece of paper. Hardly worth it, for something that didn’t even matter anymore. He turned his back on the ship and examined the other vessels swaying on the waves.

_You could at least go say hi to Oliver and his parents_ , a part of him suggested. _It’s not their fault things didn’t work out._ He gave the _Sweet Ann_ another long look, but ultimately walked away.

He couldn’t admit it, even to himself, but all he wanted was to run away from every familiar thing he knew. And the _Sweet Ann_ had more that won her place in that category. He couldn’t approach it alone, after finding happiness inside of it in Gakupo’s arms.

***

The south had changed quite a bit after Yu’s death. Like many tyrants, he had failed to consider what would happen to his lands after death. Consequently, while Wil, the man he placed in charge while he traveled north still held most of Koume, the other two lieutenants rejected him as successor. One was directly fighting the first for control of the city-state of Koume, while the other was bidding his time and occupying the lands of Bou.

Many of Yu’s former troops had chosen none of the self-appointed lords, and were raiding the land around the two cities, making the situation even more chaotic.

Kaito evaded the main roads as much as possible, once he left Ne Irie. Marauders were everywhere, despoiling the land and its inhabitants to their heart’s content. He didn’t look like a particularly good target, wrapped in his modest dark blue hood and cape, but he was carrying a lot of money in case he needed to buy his way towards Gakuto. Caution was imperative.

Sleeping in the wilderness didn’t stop the macabre fragments of memory from coming to him night after night. Yet strangely, nothing else seemed to be surfacing. Perhaps he needed a certain level of mental stability to access Ao’s memories. But on the contrary, Kaito was beginning to find himself disoriented and irritable, given his increasing lack of sleep. Bitterly, he began to consider finding a town and buying someone’s company for a night. He didn’t want to touch them at all, he just needed to see if sharing a bed with someone could deter the terrors for a few hours.    

But before the opportunity could present itself, Kaito finally found himself walking the streets of the ruined city. Despite the devastation, some people still lived in the ruins of Bou. Perhaps they feared the roads, or they simply didn’t have any reason to think life would be better elsewhere. Kaito walked past some of them, men and women making an effort to bring parts of the city into some kind of normalcy. Others were sitting at the door of their burnt homes, staring emptily into space. They were still breathing, but those vacant shells were dead, and had been so since the fall of their home.

After walking for a while, Kaito turned a street corner and found the road where the Kamui Theater once stood. Unseen eyes peered at Kaito from the crumbling facades of the once luxurious buildings at both sides of him. _Thieves wanting to steal from a thief_ , he thought with morbid amusement. The strange atmosphere of dread around him still squeezed his heart, however, so he gripped his sword tightly.

Yet nobody bothered him, as he observed the desolate scenery. Once, for a job, Kaito had tailed a merchant into this part of town. That night, the streets fought the darkness with hundreds of lanterns, and each establishment seemed more colorful than the last, their fronts painted with garish colors and decorated with banners and inscriptions.

He had been so close to Gakupo then, unknowingly. Just at the end of the street, the boy that one day would take his heart lived cocooned and beloved. Given how long ago it had been, Gakupo was likely just starting to take on speaking roles.

Now, there was barely anything left at the end of the lane. The upper stories of the Kamui Theater had collapsed for the most part, and the rest was blackened and twisted. Kaito cautiously climbed over the piles of rubble at the entrance, and advanced towards the place where the main stage was located. Part of it was sunk, and the other half was covered in soot and looked perilously unstable. Kaito touched one of the planks of wood, lost in his thoughts.

After a minute or so, the sounds of muted conversation reached his ears, followed by stones and rubble rolling and spilling on the ground, and an inarticulate shout. It came from the back of the structure.

Kaito approached the source of the sound with caution. But what he found was quite unexpected: two old women, one on the ground and groaning, the other rubbing her companion’s ankle. Both wore ragged robes, but the ones wrapped around the woman on the floor seemed distinctly more elegant than the drab garments of the other. A few steps away, a small cart waited for them on the remains of a hallway. It was full of what was obviously scavenged goods.

The two women gasped when they saw him, embracing each other in terror.

“No, no, it’s alright! I won’t hurt you!” Kaito rushed to calm the two, extending his empty hands in the air. “Where do you live, grandmother? I’ll take you home,” he continued, flashing what he hoped was a charming smile. It didn’t come too naturally, these days.

The women looked at each other, and then back at him. After a moment, the one with the hurt ankle nodded. “Thank you, child.”

Kaito walked towards them slowly, then crouched down next to the woman. “I’m Kaito, grandmothers. May I know your name?”

“I’m Chiyo,” the one sitting on the ground said. “This one is Kane.”

Kane bowed slightly, though she still seemed a bit mistrustful of Kaito. After a moment, she muttered, “Not from town?”

“No, not really. I used to live nearby, in Ishi, before I went north. I always dreamed of seeing this place,” Kaito paused, indicating the ruins of the theater with a wave of his hand, “So when I heard Yu was gone, I decided to return. But I guess I won’t see the master perform here anytime soon.”

Kane raised one eyebrow, and replied “Didn’t you hear? Master Gakuto was taken to Koume.”

“What?! When did that happen?” Kaito boggled. _So he’s alive. A good thing happened, for once._

“How about we tell you on the way, dear? This is no place for a conversation.” Chiyo tugged at Kaito’s cape, signaling him to pick her up. He obeyed, easily. The shriveled woman was almost as light as Gakupo.

“Can you handle the cart, Grandmother Kane?” He asked the other woman.

“Of course I can. Youngsters these days,” she grumbled, and began pushing it along the ruined hallway.

“Don’t mind her, dear. She thinks she’s a young maiden still,” Chiyo whispered into Kaito’s ear with a giggle.

“I see.” Kaito grinned again, as natural a smile as he could accomplish. “So, you were saying?”

“Oh yes. Um, when the fire subsided, that horrible man and his thugs gathered anyone still alive in the central square, and they brought forward the important people of Bou to swear obedience to him.” Chiyo twisted her thin mouth in a sneer.

The hallway ended in an open entryway, leading to a sun-drenched yard. Leaving the cart behind, Kane cautiously approached the fence separating the yard from the backstreet and looked carefully in both directions. After a moment, she nodded, satisfied.

“Are there patrols against looters?” Kaito asked, watching Kane sort her way past the debris in the yard with the cart.

“More like bullies that beat up people for scraps,” Chiyo remarked bitterly. “There’s no one officially in charge of the city. Yu made sure to kill anyone that might take charge in a situation like this.”

The backstreet was narrow, and as deserted as the main road. The sounds of their footsteps and the wheels of the cart seemed hugely amplified by virtue of being the only thing aside of the wind to break the silence.

“When I said important, I meant rich merchants, guild leaders and notable people like Master Gakuto. Our generals were either executed or disappeared before they could be caught.”

“And they all swore fealty to Yu?”

Chiyo raised one finger and wagged it with a catlike smile. “Not our Master Gakuto, he didn’t. At first everything he seemed as resigned as the others… They forced him to kneel before the warlord, and he inclined his head. But then, Yu stood from the big chair they brought to the plaza and leaned in to say something to Master Gakuto…” The old woman paused, clearly enjoying the curiosity displayed on Kaito’s face.

“What happened?” Kaito asked, like he was clearly supposed to.  

“Gakuto head-butted him, that’s what happened,” Kane interrupted, without turning her head. “We’re almost there, sonny.”

“ _He what_?!” Kaito, very consciously, had been imagining Gakuto as an older version of his son. Obviously some mental rearrangements were in order.

Chiyo glared bemusedly at Kane’s back for her interruption, before replying, “Yes, that awful man must’ve said something very upsetting to Master Gakuto, because he attacked him like a madman.” The old woman stopped to make some feeble motions with her hands that were meant to recreate Gakuto’s swift movements.

“Master Gakuto almost gouged one of the lord’s eyes with a hairpin, before the soldiers subdued him. It would’ve been well deserved, if you ask me,” added Kane with a smirk.

Now that was a scene Kaito wished he could see: the theater star of Bou attacking the armored hulk of Koume with nothing but a jeweled hairpin. Despite the ridiculous premise, it sounded like Gakuto had done quite well in the fight, even if he had no hope of success.

“This way,” Kane pointed to a sort of path snaking away from the street. She laboriously pulled the cart past the piles of rubble lining it, grunting and wheezing.

“Maybe we should take a break,” Kaito suggested, watching her efforts.

“What, is Lady Chiyo too heavy for you? I’m doing fine,” Kane retorted proudly.

Chiyo sighed. “Don’t overdo it, old girl. This young man is not going to be impressed with you, no matter what you do.”

“I’m impressed with both of you, grandmother. You seem to be holding up very well, given how things are over here.” Kaito smiled, a bit more relaxed.

“Flatterer.” Chiyo shook her head, but looked pleased. Kane looked away to hide her expression.

Their home, Kaito discovered a half hour or so later, was an isolated little storeroom in the back of a bigger property. The main house had completely burned and was reduced to a few blackened poles pointing to the skies.

Kaito lowered Chiyo onto a slightly singed mat on the floor of the storeroom and observed the interior, cringing internally. The old women had done their best to make the place into a home, but it looked dismal.

“Are you going stay here in Bou?” He asked Chiyo while Kane examined and separated their loot.

“Where else can we go? We are too old to start again somewhere else. No, we’ll die here,” Chiyo rubbed Kaito’s arm, reassuringly. “Don’t make that face, dear. It’s not that bad.”

Kaito smiled sadly. “…Did you live at the main house before?”

Chiyo sighed. “Yes, with my son, his wife and their children. And Kane and the other servants, of course. Now it’s just the two of us.”

“I’m sorry.”

“We’ll see each other again one day, don’t worry.” Chiyo patted Kaito’s head. “Now, why don’t you tell me what you are _really_ doing in the city? You’re not simply sightseeing, are you?”

Kaito met Chiyo’s sagacious eyes for an instant, before looking away. “Someone asked me to find Gakuto Kamui and keep him safe. Someone important.”

“Are you going to Koume, then?”

“I have to.” His promise to Gakupo was quickly becoming the sole reason he bothered to lift his head in the morning.

“I’ve heard the two sides fighting over there are tearing the city apart.” Chiyo moved her head, concerned.

“That might make things easier for me, then. I’ll use the chaos to slip into the hold’s dungeons.”

Chiyo narrowed her eyes. “It’s not going to be that easy.”

Kaito shrugged. “I made some contacts in Koume, a while ago. Maybe one of them can point me in the right direction.”

“I hope so, dear. Would you like to stay with us tonight? We have some salted meat and liquor.”

“You’d be doing me a favor.” Perhaps he could be spared his nightly ration of horrors, sharing a roof with this kind woman and her companion. If so, it would be his first night of restful sleep since he started his trip.  

After sundown, the trio risked a small fire near the entrance of the storeroom, and sat around it trading stories. Chiyo had been privileged enough in her former life to attend the Kamui Theater several times, and she delighted in retelling the plays she had seen. She even sang a little, with a reedy voice that was amusingly at odds with her lined face. Kaito for his part answered the women’s questions regarding the state of the outside world, and made them cringe with a description of Yu’s demise. The news of his death had spread quickly, but the actual details were not widely available, so they had no idea of Gakupo’s involvement with it. The idea that a citizen of Bou had been the one to squash the warlord brought the women some contentment, Kaito realized from their faces. To them, it was a bitter kind of justice, he guessed.

Finally, Kane cleared a corner of the storeroom and prepared him a makeshift bed. Kaito took off his boots and sword, but left everything else on and curled under a couple of ratty blankets. He watched Kane blow out the candle and heard her fumble her way to Chiyo’s side. Their calm breathing was so reassuring, almost like sleeping in Mio’s room again.

The night was placid, patiently waiting for him to wander away through old paths.

***

It was beginning to annoy him, really. For several days now, Ao had woken up to find himself alone in bed. A few instants of panic followed, before he inevitably spied the Envoy sitting somewhere in the room, or even floating face-up in the pond outside. It was like the man was physically incapable of reaching breakfast time before wandering off.

Today, morning had come abrupt and unwanted, as always. And as always, Ao patted the sheets around him, only to find them empty. He sat up, bemused.

The Envoy sat hugging his knees in a corner of the room, his back propped against a column. For whatever reason, he had seen fit to wear the ever-present crown of flowers, but not anything else. The man gave him a mildly insolent look and went back to staring into space.

“Say good morning,” Ao ordered him.

“Good morning, Your Imperial Majesty,” the man said tonelessly. “Thank you for your attentions last night, I’m honored to be worthy of your time.”

Ao grinned, ignoring the man’s usual grumpiness. He easily shifted into an enthusiastic mood, what he often felt since the purple-haired man’s arrival. “Come here, Envoy.”

The man rose to his feet and approached the bed, and the phantom glow around him shifted with the movement of his limbs. He paused at the side of the mattress, but Ao beckoned him with his hand, observing the man’s body with delight as the Envoy crawled over the covers, until he was in all fours over him.

Ao ran his fingers down the long purple strands that cascaded down from both sides of the man’s head. The face above him was completely unreadable. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m wondering if you have ever been presented with a more difficult quandary than what sash to wear that day,” the Envoy stated, barely changing his expression.

“My attendants choose my clothing, Envoy,” Ao pointed out. What a strange thing to say. Not only was the Envoy a prince himself, he had witnessed Ao get dressed several times by now. He had to know how things worked.

The Envoy looked frankly annoyed by his response. “Are you mocking me? You know what I mean.”

“Not really,” Ao diverted his eyes, restless. The Envoy was certainly beautiful, but his strangeness was overwhelming at times.

“Which one of your provinces had the highest grossing of taxes this year?”

“Huh?”

“Did any of the major cities suffer a natural disaster this year?”

“….I don’t know.”

“What are the current laws regarding inheritance of land ownership in the case of multiple children?”

Ao shrugged. What did any of that matter? If he ever needed the information, he could always ask any of the advisors or ministers.

“Have you ever seen the mountains that you gifted to my people?” The Envoy’s voice was soft, but his eyes were scornful and remote.

“Are you worried it isn’t good terrain? But you said yourself your people weren’t farmers,” Ao recalled, growing more and more confused.

“ _Have you ever seen them?_ ” The Envoy repeated, grabbing Ao’s shoulders.

The emperor stared at him, motionless. “…I’ve never been outside of this palace in my whole life,” he said finally. The Envoy seemed surprised, his features softening. Ao felt irritated at this. What, did the Envoy feel superior to him because he had walked the world outside? Because he wasted space in his head storing laws and figures any scribe could list on his notes? Is that why he didn’t surrender to his touch without grimacing?

“You’re not above me. No one is above me,” Ao stated and grabbed the man’s arms, pushing him aside. The Envoy was caught off guard and landed on his back, hair spilling around his head in all directions. Ao climbed on top of him and sat on his stomach, grinning.

“You may be the prince of your people, but I’m the emperor of Eto. I don’t need to know anything to be the center of this realm. ‘I see, I take, I rule’,” Ao quoted the refrain of his family. “I channel the will of the gods upon this land. I’m not a watchdog, or a jealous husband guarding an unfaithful wife.”

“No, you are an irresponsible, selfish child!” The Envoy growled. But he didn’t try to push Ao off him.

“ _I see you. I take you. I rule you_.” Ao grabbed the man’s hands and intertwined their fingers together. “Why do you keep trying to be upset with me? I want to learn how to make you happy, but you won’t even give me the chance.”

“You won’t treat me as your equal, and you wonder why I’m upset?!” The man had completely abandoned his mask of indifference by now. If anything, it made him even more appealing, with the way his eyes and cheeks overflowed with emotion.

“But you aren’t my equal. No one is. I stand alone.” Ao replied, shaking his head.

“Look at you! You aren’t in your throne right now. You have no crown, no fancy robes nor gold scepter. Look at me! Is there any difference between us at this moment?” The Envoy asked, reigning back his rage. After days of just silently letting the emperor have his way, the Envoy actually seemed to be making an effort to reach Ao, to get him to understand his way of thinking.

So Ao took a moment to consider his words. He looked at himself, naked aside from the pendant hanging from his neck, blue like his eyes. He looked at the man between his legs. His crown of flowers had fallen aside, and was partially squashed under his left shoulder. “Hm…”

“If you only want a diversion from your boredom, then lord over me all you want. We came here asking for sanctuary, and I’m willing to pay for that safety,” the Envoy said, his voice low and hoarse. “But if you want something deeper, look at us right now. We’re two lovers in bed. Act accordingly.”

Ao was stunned. Lovers? The Envoy had actually called them lovers? He looked at their hands, at their fingers laced together. He remembered their kisses, all the times they had come together since his arrival. What more could there be?

“I can be there for you. I can be someone you can trust. Don’t just treat me as something to sate your lust,” the Envoy begged. “Please.”

“Someone I can trust.” Ao watched the Envoy’s expression carefully. It had nothing of the fakeness of most of the faces that populated the court. “I…I’d like that,” he stammered, after a moment.

The Envoy exhaled. For the first time since they reached their deal, something approaching a joyful smile curved his lips. It transformed what was already a handsome face into something absolutely breathtaking. “Don’t just use me, or order me around.” He whispered. “Make love to me. Listen to me.”

Ao nodded, almost mesmerized. He placed his hands on the Envoy’s chest, almost bashfully.

The man brushed Ao’s dark, bluish bangs aside and brought his face closer to his. “I’ll make love to you. I’ll respect and follow you. I’ll make your happiness my mission here, for as long as I live between these walls. Just don’t be the emperor, while we are alone. You don’t need to force me, or tie me down. Be someone I can cherish.”

Silence stretched then, as Ao’s heart pounded in this chest. The Envoy waited calmly. He had presented all he could offer, and laid his challenge. No one before him had ever challenged Ao.

“ _Yes_. Teach me how, Envoy. Teach me.”


	19. Chapter 19

XIX

Inside a cell carved in the rock under the main structure of Koume’s hold, the greatest artist in southern Eto kneeled on the ground.

His hair, usually kept dyed jet black with tincture, had faded into a dark brown intermixed with some grey hairs. It was tied at the base of his neck into a neat ponytail. All that remained of his once rich robes was torn rags tied around his waist, and yet, he exuded an air of self-control and elegance. There were several cuts and bruises in this arms and back, some fresh and others mostly cured.

From the half-shadows of the dimly lit hallway, Kaito observed the man with some nervousness. It was probably a trick of the mind, but there was something about Gakuto that reminded him of his son, even if they were not related by blood. Perhaps it was his posture, straight yet graceful, as if he was meditating in the comfort of his own home. Perhaps it was his attractive features, only now beginning to be marred with age.

Finally, Kaito decided to let his presence be known. They had to get away before the battle above was decided one way or the other. “Master Kamui?” The former bandit approached the barred entrance and lowered his hood.

The man gave him a withering look. “More scum comes to squeeze some amusement out of me, how droll. Just remember, I bite.”

 _Alright, he’s definitely not Gakupo._ Kaito scratched his head, feeling off his game. “I _am_ scum, but the helpful kind. My name is Kaito, Master Kamui, your son sent me to get you out.” He fished out some of his lock-picking tools out from a pocket and began to work on the cell’s door.

Gakuto watched him with suspicion. “What sort of game is this? Which one of those brutes are you working for?”

“I told you, I’m here because of Gakupo.” The door opened with a whine, and Kaito dropped a sack with clothes in front of Gakuto. “Unless you prefer to stay here, put this on so we can get going. I don’t think we have much time.”

His words were met with a deep frown, but after a couple of seconds, Gakuto reached towards the bag and pulled out a set of peasant clothes. Kaito went to watch the hallway, letting Gakuto have some space to get dressed.

“So my son hired you, helpful scum? Is he really living in Gyuugan?” The man’s voice questioned him from behind.

“He has a house there,” Kaito replied, trying to keep his voice even.

“Is it true that my boy killed Yu?” It was rather strange, how this man’s rich and sedate voice could make such things sound almost commonplace.

“Killed is underselling it, Master Kamui. He completely annihilated Yu, is what I’d say,” Kaito said wryly.

“Shame on that man for forcing Gakupo to sully his hands and divulge his gifts. Still, his death is a good deed.”

Kaito turned to the sound of footsteps, and observed Gakuto with a critical eye. No one that watched him for more than five minutes would fail to notice that the man belonged in high society, even wearing those roughly spun garments. But he didn’t look like a prisoner, and that was enough.

“How are we getting out of here, then?” Gakuto asked curtly. He pointed to the ceiling and added, “Sounds like the fighting is fierce up there.”

“I didn’t get here through the castle proper.” Kaito pulled out a piece of parchment from one of his pockets. “I had someone draw me a map of the sewers running under the citadel. It got me here, and it will get us out.”

“Sewers? I guess that explains your stench,” Gakuto scrunched his face. Before Kaito could reply, the performer raised his hands in surrender. “I’m not foolish enough to be deterred by foul smells. Lead on, scum.”

“I told you my name already,” Kaito grumbled, but started walking towards the exit.

“Didn’t you admit you were scum? So it’s an applicable term, isn’t it?” Gakuto replied, either genuinely perplexed or acting in a very convincing manner.

Kaito just shook his head. _And to think I used to find Gakupo’s behavior weird._ “Follow me, Master Kamui.”

A short distance away from the cell was the drain Kaito had used to enter the dungeons. It was dark and slippery, but somehow the two men were able to climb down without falling. Despite being younger, Kaito felt rather sluggish compared to the agile artist, who effortlessly reached the tunnel below, making a mute splash in the dirty water. His sleep deprivation was truly taking a toll on him by now.

The lantern hooked to his belt illuminated a rather dreary scene, when Kaito dropped down. The tunnel seemed, given its width and sturdiness, to be yet another remainder of the empire. The water running past his shins was dark and mixed with things he didn’t want to focus on. He pulled his muffler up to cover his mouth and gestured Gakuto to do the same with the sleeve of his peasant outfit. They set off to a brisk pace.

Some time and many turns later, they reached an opening to the outside. The tunnel’s water dropped to the river to the south of Koume, making a short waterfall. The hole on the cliff-side had a small ledge beside it, enough for them to shimmy to the left and then drop on a grassy slope. Gakuto looked behind them and upwards, to the walls of the hold perched on the top of the hill. “I’m finally out!”

Kaito smiled. “Congratulations, Master Kamui. There is a crossing a bit upstream from here, we’ll go to the coast and then north, ok?”

Gakuto nodded, a bit more subdued than before. Perhaps he was finally allowing himself to hope this escape would pan out. “I’m going to see my boy again…”

 _Well, there goes that nice feeling of accomplishment_. Kaito looked away, cringing. “I have a couple of horses hidden in a copse of trees nearby. Let’s hurry,” he managed to say, and stood up. Gakuto followed him in silence.

Kaito had chosen the timing of his incursion just right. The fighting in the hold appeared to be reaching its conclusion, though the view from below didn’t lend itself to guess which one of the lieutenants was the victor. In any case, nobody cared about the two figures crossing the river with the help of a rope and then running away across the fields. By the time the soldiers of the winner reached the dungeons and began to take stock of the prisoners, Kaito and Gakuto were swiftly galloping away from Koume. Neither would see the city ever again.

***

It gave Kaito a weird feeling to compare his current situation to his trip north with Gakupo all those months ago. From the doorway, he observed his and Gakuto’s accommodations for the night and smiled. The loot from the mountain retreat had afforded for a much nicer experience, the first time around. But now he was running a bit low on funds after spending so much on horses and bribes, plus a little gift for Chiyo and Kane. And obviously, he still had to afford their passage back to Gyuugan. So all he could secure right now was an austere square room with two mats on the floor, a couple of old cushions and a trunk.

Nevertheless, the inn was clean and had secure stables. Gakuto didn’t seem too bothered by the fact they would have to share a room, or that he had to sleep on the floor. In fact, he immediately curled up on one of the mats and closed his eyes.

“I’ll go get us some dinner, Master Kamui.”

“Something hot, if you please. I haven’t had a truly hot dish in ages,” Gakuto answered tiredly, without looking at him. Kaito realized he had probably pushed the man too hard: Gakuto was around twice his age, after all. Not only that, the artist had spent the last few weeks locked up in a sunless hole and under constant abuse.

“Master Kamui, I’m sorry I insisted on reaching town instead of a camp, you look exhausted.”

“Nonsense, boy. Just wake me up when you get back.”

“Yes, master.” Kaito closed the door quietly. _At least this Kamui shouldn’t disappear when I look the other way._

And that thought brought Kaito back to the question that had been plaguing him all through the horse ride: Gakuto still treated him like a servant under Gakupo’s employ, and that actually suited him just fine. It was nice to pretend that Gakupo was waiting for them back home, like his father believed. But the truth was that he was gone, perhaps forever. And Kaito had no idea how to break the news to Gakuto, or how to explain his role in his disappearance.

Kaito wasn’t any closer to finding a satisfactory answer, by the time he returned carrying two steaming bowls of noodle soup, and some fruit in a bag.

Gakuto was breathing peacefully, with an expression so serene that Kaito hesitated in speaking out loud. But as soon as he laid the bowl by his mat, the artist opened his eyes, and sat rubbing his face. “That looks good…”

Kaito sat on the other mat and began to peel an orange. He didn’t like scalding food all that much, personally, so he decided to give the soup some time to cool off a bit.

“Is there something you want to say to me, helpful scum?” Gakuto suddenly asked between gulps. By now, Kaito was certain the moniker was a jest, and not even a mean-spirited one. It made him very eager to see father and son interacting: Gakuto’s strange sense of humor and Gakupo’s persistent inability to realize when someone was joking sounded like a perfect recipe for memorable conversations.

“Am I that obvious?” Kaito sunk one of his nails in the orange’s peel several times, smiling despite himself.

“You make a rather familiar expression each time my boy’s name comes up, if you haven’t noticed.” Gakuto replied almost in a bored tone. “You’ve got a crush on him, don’t you, scum?”

“Er…I’m love with him, Master Kamui,” Kaito blurted out, baffled by Gakuto’s indifference. Did he think he was an overly attached fan or something?

“We performers attract suitors like flowers attract bees. Don’t be too disappointed when he turns you down, scum. It’s nothing personal.” Gakuto placed the bowl aside, already emptied of its contents, then raised an eyebrow at Kaito’s expression. “What, you think he loves you back?”

“I…don’t know.” _Not anymore, in any case._ Kaito stared at the half-peeled orange, not actually seeing it. His memories were still incomplete, but it seemed Ao and the Envoy had reached some sort of harmony before their deaths. However, even if Gakupo didn’t resent him for their past lives, there was still another big problem. “I hurt him, a lot. He acted like he forgave me, but-”

“You what?!” Gakuto interrupted him, eyes wide.

“I…he used his powers and I- I didn’t understand what I was seeing, so…” Kaito fumbled for words, unnerved by Gakuto’s irate eyes. “I attacked him.”

“Is that why he didn’t come to save me personally?” the theater star asked in a deceptively soft tone. “Is he convalescent?”

“Yes,” Kaito nodded, feeling like a small child under the unblinking gaze. He watched with a churning stomach as Gakuto rose from his mat, only to carefully take Kaito’s untouched bowl of soup and place it over the trunk. “Hm, what are you-“

His task completed, Gakuto turned around and punched him hard in the face. Caught off guard, Kaito fell backwards, sending the orange flying through the air. _At least he didn’t head-butt me_ , he thought after hitting the ground, flashes of light in his eyes.

“You ignorant, miserable swine! Touch him again and I’ll kill you!” Gakuto growled.

“I didn’t mean to!” Kaito yelled back, rubbing his jaw. “Didn’t you hear me? I love him, I love Gakupo! There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make up for it!”

Gakuto observed him darkly. “Start by keeping your distance. I don’t how he came into contact with the likes of you, but he doesn’t need you. Understood?”

“How I came into contact with him? I rescued him from Yu, how about that?!” Kaito countered angrily, sitting up. “Which only happened because you didn’t enlist in his place, like any half-decent parent would’ve done!”

Gakuto watched for a few seconds with pure loathing in his eyes, before his shoulders dropped. He sat down on the mat, for the first time looking like an old man. “…I tried to get them to return Gakupo to me, scum, all the way to the moment they opened the gates to let the battalions out.” He looked at his hands, downcast. “But it’s true, I was afraid to go into battle myself,” his voice descended into an almost undecipherable whisper, “and in my cowardice, I delivered my son into the hands of a monster.” His eyes briefly met Kaito’s. “Yes, _he_ delighted in taunting me with every little detail. How my actions allowed him to…oh, lady of mercy, my poor boy!” The man hid his face in his hands.  

Kaito’s anger immediately dissipated. It was obvious that Gakuto had been chastising himself for his failure for a while and only now his proud front was cracking from the stress. Even his own experiences as a prisoner didn’t seem to faze him as much as Gakupo’s own ordeal.

“I’m sorry, Master Kamui. I shouldn’t have said something so odious.”

“It’s the truth.” Gakuto rubbed his face. “I did everything wrong from the start. We should’ve moved elsewhere as soon as the first stirrings of war started. I had the savings and the fame to start again in another city. I was just too complacent and set on my ways to see what was coming.” He leaned forward, a lock of dark hair falling in front of his eyes. “And then I became the sort of abominable father that would sacrifice his child to save his own wrinkly hide. Not that it helped me any in the long run,” he remarked with a bitter smile.

He sighed deeply before continuing, “Take me to my son, Kaito. I’ll be a better father this time around.”

“I wish I could do that.”

Gakuto paled at this. “What? He isn’t- You said he was in Gyuugan!”

Kaito cringed, finding it difficult to withstand the look in the man’s face. Closing his eyes, he blurted out with some effort, “I said _his house_ was in Gyuugan. Master Kamui, please listen. I’ll tell you everything that’s happened, and why Gakupo isn’t here with us.”

Gakuto nodded with a mix of dread and anticipation.

Kaito ran his hands through his hair, wondering where to start. “Were you aware that Gakupo is a full-blooded Meu Rehn?”

Gakuto frowned. “I suspected it, given all the evidence. The mummers still had the robes he was found in when they brought him to me, it was a kind of fabric I had never seen before. And that night, there was a meteor shower, like the stories say.” He inclined his head, thinking back. “Even as a child, he moved differently than anyone else, like he wasn’t tied to the ground.”

“Why didn’t you try to make him learn more about his powers?”

“I didn’t want him to become someone’s weapon,” Gakuto replied. “The few sources of information I found claimed that Meu Rehn don’t gain control of their powers until late adolescence, so I just kept ignoring the issue.”

“Gakupo’s powers _did_ manifest finally, but he was forced into it. Yu shot me in front of him, and he tried to save me. That’s when I attacked him.”

“Why?!”

“I saw a creature…something not of this world. Gakupo’s not of this world. Of course, I realized immediately after that he never meant to hurt me, but the damage was done. Gakupo was dying.”

“No…!” Gakuto choked, eyes wide.

“From what he told me, he needs to stay in the home realm of the Meu Rehn in order to heal the injuries sustained in that form. So that’s why…I’m so sorry, Master Kamui. Please forgive me.” Kaito bent forward, pressing his forehead to the ground. He felt tears burning in his eyes, ready to overflow and fall.

“But he’ll return, once he’s recovered, right?” It gave Kaito a sinking feeling, hearing the same tone of desperate hope Gakupo had once used to speak of this father, now coming out Gakuto’s lips.

Few things in his life had been more unpleasant to him than to let that hope shatter.

“I don’t know.”

***

Determining how the magic spell worked was no easy feat, but by now Kaito knew that it only activated when he was with others that could assuage his fear of loneliness. Then, the memories came back, piece by piece. Now he had a companion for the rest of the trip, though, and could hope for some sort of an answer. Lying down on his sleeping mat, Kaito watched Gakuto’s curved back, a few steps away, and waited for Ao.

 _Who killed the Envoy, and why?_ He asked himself over and over, trying to steer Gakupo’s gift in that particular direction. His fingers twitched, and the familiar specter of flames loomed near.

He ran carried by the hand by one of his ministers, towards the tower. What was left of his outfit was in disarray, and his crown had been knocked away. On the contrary, Yuuma seemed incongruously at ease, not bothered by the heavy robes of his position in the slightest.

“Inside, Your Imperial Majesty!” Yuuma opened the door of the tower, then stepped aside. Ao crossed the doorway and stood out of breath and confused. There was little light inside of the tower, aside from the shafts of radiance coming from the windows above. The emperor was still craning his neck up, when he heard the door close. He turned in surprise, and met Yuuma’s eyes from the other side of the small barred orifice in the door.

“Goodbye, Ao.” His youngest minister took a step back.

“Yuuma? Don’t leave me alone, Yuuma!” Ao cried out. “Please!”

_“Please!”_

Like an illustration on a piece of parchment, the scene crumbled under Kaito’s scrutiny. What was this? The moments before Ao’s death? It wasn’t what he wanted to see, at all. Kaito pushed the memory away, blindly grasping for something else.  

Then he was sitting next to the Envoy, in a luxurious room with a long table. It was covered with the remains of what had once been a massive feast.

“Do you think it went well? I tried to mention all the things you told me, at least once,” Ao remarked.

“You did a fine job,” the Envoy placed a hand on the cheek, rubbing the skin with his thumb.

Ao smiled proudly. “Your singing inspired me,” he laughed. “I think the ministers were impressed too.”

“The ministers…” the Envoy’s expression got a bit darker. “I examined their intents while I performed for you all. Some of them are working against you, I can tell. Others are likely to hear our reform plans and lend their support.”

“Do you know which one is which?”

“Reading the heart of another is a complex matter, Ao. Even if I were alone with one of them, instead of a packed room, I’d still need to be physically touching them.” The Envoy pointed with one finger to Ao’s forehead, not quite touching it.

“Sounds inconvenient.”

“We don’t generally condone the use of such methods. There might be better ways to do it, but the Meu Rehn had never pursued their study.” The man looked downwards, reflecting. “I do have some general ideas. The Minister of Land is predisposed against you.”

“That one is easy. He wants you for himself!” It had been the most annoying thing to bear during the dinner, to catch again and again the old man’s covetous glances towards _his_ Envoy.

“It goes far beyond that, I’d say,” the man replied, indifferent. “But the one that concerns me the most is the Minister of Justice.”

“Yuuma? Why? He’s the only one that doesn’t treat me like a complete imbecile!” Ao exclaimed, surprised.

A maid appeared at the door, before the Envoy could answer. Instead he whispered gravelly, “We should go to your chambers, and let your servants clean the room. Come on.” He took Ao’s hand, and they both exited the room, walking down the corridor until they reached the young man’s bedroom.

“Who is him, this Yuuma? He’s almost your age, and yet he occupies such an important position,” the Envoy asked while helping Ao undress.

“His father, Yama, was the previous minister, but he died a couple of years ago of an illness. Yama and two other ministers suggested his son was prepared to take on his duties, and I agreed to let him step in.”

“He has some of our blood running in his veins, like you.”

Ao nodded. Despite the fact that Yuuma and him weren’t particularly close, that shared characteristic made him feel some kindship towards the rose-haired young man. “He’s the only one aside from me here, as far as I can tell.”

The Envoy frowned slightly and stopped folding Ao’s robes for a second. “And you say he treats you well? Perhaps my instincts are mistaken.”

Ao jumped on the bed playfully and rolled on his back. “I still think the old man is more worrisome.”

The Envoy began to take off his robes. “I wish I could meet with each minister in private to discuss things. It would be easier to gauge their intentions. But…”

“But?” Ao tilted his head.

“But I’m an outsider. I can’t be the one leading the reforms, or your people will grow to resent them regardless of the actual benefits.”

The man climbed on the bed and embraced Ao, staring at his eyes with a guarded expression. “Would you allow me to invite the Minister of Land to my cottage?”

Ao pouted. “But you just said-“

“No, I won’t talk reforms with him. But if he’s really attracted to me, maybe we can use that to bring him to our side.”

“I won’t let him touch you!” Ao shouted indignant. He hid his face on the man’s neck.

“Child…” the Envoy, sighed. “Not every relationship is based on physical intimacy. Who can say, maybe he and I can become friends?”

“…He’d better not try anything,” Ao mumbled after a minute, still hiding his expression.

“And you should meet with Yuuma.” The Envoy ran his fingers through Ao’s hair, thinking. “He noticed you got distracted while he was explaining his project to modernize the Imperial Archives. Go to him, say you were tired and apologize, and that you would really appreciate it if he could explain it again.”

Ao finally looked at the Envoy’s eyes, and nodded. In truth, it was impossible for him to connect with the people outside the palace, and he didn’t fully understand the changes the Envoy wanted enacted. But it was the Envoy’s wish, and nothing in his life mattered more than that. “Yes, anything you want.”


	20. Chapter 20

XX

Kaito stared at the ceiling rubbing his temples. Again and again he had tried to force the spell to show him the circumstances around the Envoy’s death, but the memories evaded him. He didn’t seem to have any way to control it; he didn’t know if it was due to lack of instruction, or because he continued to fear what he could see.

He still had a couple of hours to go before dawn. He glanced to the other mat and Gakuto’s sleeping form. _You have no idea of how much I miss your son, master._

At least the broken fragments he had managed to glimpse of his past life were oddly comforting. He saw himself give the Envoy the little cottage near the border of the Imperial Woods, at the back of the castle, allowing him some space of his own. He saw himself surprised at the idea that the Envoy wanted to spend the mornings managing the affairs of this distant people, and then sitting impatiently next to his desk, watching him go through report after report. But Ao learnt to be patient, and that earned him the rare approving smiles of the mage.

And not only that: fumbling and hesitantly, Ao began to experiment for the first time what it meant to have a relationship with someone. From his vantage point, it was hard for Kaito to determine what the Envoy truly felt towards the emperor. He was even harder to read than Gakupo. But whatever the case, they certainly acted much like any couple, after a while. Whenever the man wasn’t working, they were together, wandering the gardens, playing music or simply talking.

It didn’t truly belong to him, at least to Kaito’s eyes, but he still felt a warm feeling of joy, thinking about those peaceful days, before the Envoy’s plan to reform the Empire.

And summoned with that thought, the horrendous image of the man’s bloody form flashed once more before his eyes. _Who did it? Why?_

“You seem very happy lately, Your Imperial Highness. It seems that the coming of the Meu Rehn is a true blessing to this land,” an amicable voice spoke from the depths of his memories. Stubbornly, his mind clung to another strand of the past, and Kaito saw himself walking slowly along a path in the gardens, next to Yuuma. This time, he decided to just let whatever the magic decided to show him play out before him.

“I _am_ happy, so very happy,” Ao replied. He prepared to launch into a detailed description of how wonderful the Envoy was, but then he caught himself. He was supposed to show interest in Yuuma, after all. And he did feel some curiosity towards him, at any rate. In theory, their respective ranks prohibited actual friendship between them, but at least in private, they could practice some sincerity.

“Yuuma, I’ve been wondering, do you know which one of your ancestors was Meu Rehn?” The Envoy had been making some discreet inquiries, but none of his subjects seemed to know. The former minister had certainly been fully Eto, and although Ao had never met Yuuma’s deceased mother, her family tree seemed to indicate the same.

Strangely, Yuuma blushed and averted his eyes for a moment, caught off-guard. “I…”

_Too blunt of an approach, Ao._ The emperor could hear the serene voice of the Envoy in the back of his head.

“It was not my intention to pry, Yuuma,” Ao rushed to say, not very convincingly. “I only thought that you and I had things in common, so…” He gestured vaguely with his hands, pointing towards his head and Yuuma’s.

After a moment, Yuuma recovered this calm appearance, and bowed. “It’s an honor that you would consider this poor minister and yourself similar, Your Imperial Highness.” Inclined forward as he was, his rose-colored bangs shielded his eyes as he spoke in a low tone. “At the present moment, I’m not in the liberty to speak of the origin of my foreign blood. I beg your forgiveness.”

Ao watched him perplexed. Even if there was some indiscretion involved, wasn’t it in the past? What did it matter to him if one of the women in Yuuma’s family had gotten herself pregnant by a Meu Rehn? “Your family secrets are your own, of course. You need not apologize, Yuuma.”

Yuuma straightened up, smiling gratefully. “As long as it is in my power, I will answer or seek the answer to any quandaries you face, Your Imperial Highness.”

“It’s just the two of us here, Yuuma. Just call me Ao.”

“I…yes, of course, ah…Ao,” Yuuma stammered. His expression was so amusing that Ao playfully slung an arm over his shoulders, just to see his reaction. As expected, he looked so flabbergasted that Ao almost burst out laughing. But the last weeks had taught him enough self-control to just continue strolling down the path, gently pulling his minister along.

After a moment, Ao searched for a new topic of conversation. Perhaps praising the late Yama was a safe choice. “Your father was a great minister, Yuuma. I’m glad to see you following his example.”

From the way Yuuma’s eyes lit up, he wasn’t mistaken in his assumption. “He was… He never rejected me,” the minister replied reverently. “Despite everything, he always strived to shape me into something better.”

“Why would he reject you?” Ao replied, baffled.

Yuuma stared at the ground. “It’s just ridiculous talk, I suppose, but many people in court blamed me for my mother’s death, saying she never recovered her health after I was born.” He brought a hand to his mouth and added, “Ah, sorry for burdening you with meaningless talk, um, Ao.”

Ao shook his head. “Do you remember her? I don’t remember my parents.” It was hard to feel nostalgic for them, more than a vague sense of loneliness. Perhaps that made him unfeeling, but he couldn’t really turn the mental concept of familiar bonds into a real ache in his heart. The Envoy felt more like his family than either of his parents, not to mention the ambiguous figure of his uncle.

“I… no, I don’t,” Yuuma looked away. “I wish I could work magic on my own like your friend, so I could go back in time to talk to her.”

“Nothing to do about that, though,” Ao replied, holding a strand of his dark blue hair between his fingers. “This is all our blood gives us.”

“Not necessarily,” Yuuma retorted, surprising him. “Some sages have hypothesized that mixed bloods like us can work magic, we just need a full mage to jumpstart our powers.” He ruffled his own colorful locks, pensive. “If I may ask, has the Envoy ever offered to teach you the arts?”

“No, never,” Ao replied, slowly. His eyes began to shine with enthusiasm at the idea. “I’ll go ask him about it! Oh, you don’t mind if we part here?”

Yuuma looked up to the sky. “Not at all, the hour seems proper. Thank you for spending some of your precious time with me, Your Imperial Highness.”

“It’s Ao!” the emperor shouted, already running towards the Envoy’s cottage. He waved back cheerfully, before turning towards the Imperial Woods which loomed past the pavilions lining the back of the gardens.

The conversation had gone pretty well, surely the Envoy would praise him. Ao smiled to himself, looking forward to the mage’s warm words. His robes were annoyingly cumbersome, but they didn’t deter him from rapidly approaching the first line of trees. Just before them, a small cottage stood up, previously used as a more private meeting place for members of the Imperial Family. It had been in disuse for a while, before Ao had it refurbished. Now it served well to keep the Envoy and his people near, yet independent enough to suit their tastes.

The gate of the fence around the cottage was ajar. It wasn’t entirely implausible, given it was kept unlocked during the day, but it still gave Ao pause: the Envoy and his protectors were fastidiously strict about neatness and protocol, and this had to unnerve them. What’s more, usually one of the faceless escorts was posted before it, or nearby.

The young emperor stepped into the luscious garden, looking around hesitantly. Everything seemed peaceful and quiet. The only sounds were the tenuous rustling of leaves and the buzzing of insects.

And then he saw the body.

The servant was partially hidden by the thick bushes in front of the cottage, but he was unmistakably severely wounded. The ground around his head was dark with blood and even the flowers nearby seemed to have been sprinkled with some of it. His mask lied cracked next to him, but he lied on his stomach, as if to preserve his anonymity even in death.

Ao gaged. He had never seen someone dead, and the incommensurable wrongness of it made him want to curl up and reject the world entirely. But then he turned towards the house, almost blind in his terror. _What if the assassins were still here?_ A small cry escaped his lips when the next, obvious question followed: _what about the Envoy?_

Shaking from head to toe, Ao entered the home. Given its dimensions, even his slow sneaking allowed him to quickly determine it was empty. He approached the back, and opened the sliding door to the yard, cringing at the sound it made.

The first thing that caught his eye was another of the faceless, half-submerged in the pond. The water lapping the body was tinged red. Then Ao spied a lithe figure lying nearby, a stranger completely clad in black clothing. A small part of him wondered: _What’s the point of wearing dark clothes in a place like the Envoy’s garden?_ However, Ao immediately lost that train of thought when he turned to look to his left.

The Envoy sat leaning against the farthest column holding up the roof of the open corridor. The front of his outfit and his hands, pressed against his gut, were completely covered in blood. His face was curiously calm like the one of a sleeper, yet white as paper.

Between the two of them, on the floor, there were a couple of cushions and trays with cups and mostly empty plates. It was likely the food and drink the Envoy had offered the Minister of Land during his visit. Ao dumbly stepped over it, nearly tripping. He stumbled forward, until he was right in front of the mage, his hand extended forward, but not quite touching him.

It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. The Envoy wasn’t going to leave him, he promised he wouldn’t.

“Envoy? Please, please open your eyes!” His own voice was a trickle of what he usually sounded like; not surprising, given how constricted his chest felt. Ao could hardly breathe; he was beginning to feel light-headed, and there was a strange tickling sensation in the tips of his fingers.

“Ao…Ao, help me…” The pained whisper almost made him lose his footing. With terrible effort, the Envoy lifted his head and opened his eyes slightly, although Ao had the sense he couldn’t really see him. He began to slide to the ground, as if finally giving in to his wounds.

“Envoy?! What-who did this?” Ao fell to his knees and put his hands on the Envoy’s shoulders, steading him.

The Envoy gave a tiny headshake. “I’m-I’m dying. Help me…”

“I’ll call the physicians!”

“No. Too much…I’ve bled out too much…there’s a better way.”

“What?”

“Let me go back to my home. The waters will heal me.” Exhausted, the mage closed his eyes again, and he rested his head against the column.

“….No.”

The Envoy’s eyes opened wide and he finally seemed to focus on the face of the emperor. He stared incredulously for a second. “You rather have me die?”

Ao stood up and took a step back, trembling. “You just want to get away, don’t you? This is some kind of trick, to get me to agree.”

The Envoy just stared at him wordlessly. Like never before, he seemed truly afraid of Ao. After a lengthy silence, he whispered, “If I die here, I’ll dissipate…like I never existed.”

“You’re lying!”

“Ao, please!”

“There’s no way a mage like you can die like a normal man! I won’t believe it! I refuse to believe it!” With every sentence, he took a step back. Once he returned to the place where the trays waited, he kicked the china and glass around, with satisfying results. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the man cringe and look away.

“Everything I ever said… it never truly reached you, didn’t it?” The Envoy mumbled, sounding more defeated than anyone Ao had ever heard. He slid to the side again, hitting the ground. The impact forced a groan out of him and a rivulet of blood poured from his mouth. After that, he moved no more.

“…Envoy?” Ao uttered. There was no response.

Ao looked down, at the broken pieces of cups and plates, and then back at the lying figure. He looked at the corpses out there in the garden, at the flowers and the leaves peacefully taking in the sun. The colorful scene blurred as tears began to pour from his eyes.

“I’ll-I’ll go get help! You’ll get better!” Ao jumped over the mess he made on the floor and ran away, blood pumping in his ears. With every step, his mind clawed and fought to avoid accepting what just happened.

_He left the Envoy to bleed out on the floor, like he was nothing. He forced him to stay. He left him there to die. I left him there to die. I did it, I let him die. It’s my fault. It’s my fault, I let him die. I let Gakupo die. I let Gakupo die. I let Gakupo die. I let Gakupo die. I let Gakupo die. I let Gakupo die. I let Gakupo die. I let Gakupo die. I let Gakupo die. I let Gakupo die. I let Gakupo die. I let Gakupo die…_

Kaito found himself screaming, thrashing on his sleeping mat and grabbing his head. It felt burning, like it was going to explode. Gakuto watched him in complete confusion; he had a hand in the air, paralyzed in the middle of a movement to rustle him from what the artist obviously believed was a nightmare.

He was right, in a way.

“Son, it’s just a dream,” Gakuto said, clearly perturbed. “It’s going to be alright.”

Kaito couldn’t answer. Finally admitting to what had happened seemed to have opened the floodgates of the past: his mind filled with a raging torrent of sights and sounds, the memories of a mad emperor.

By the time Ao returned to the cottage, surrounded by guards, and a trembling Imperial physician, the Envoy’s body was gone. There was only a disheveled crown of flowers, and the pool of blood soaking the wooden floor.

His mind faltered for a while, after that. It was almost like crawling inside the head of a feral beast. Kaito saw himself sobbing, pounding the floor, ripping apart the luxurious tapestries of his rooms, breaking the furniture, kicking and punching anyone who dared to enter. He alternated between believing the Envoy was dead, and thinking it was all part of some sick ruse. When he finally calmed down enough to accept Yuuma’s visit, the minister unknowingly fueled his delusions by posing the possibility that the Envoy was hiding amongst his people, since the palace had revealed itself to be dangerous.

Since then, Ao began to construct himself a pleasant fantasy: if he cleaned the palace of their enemies, the Envoy would return to him. It was just a matter of punishing the ones responsible for his absence. Yes, he would make an example of them.  

It was impossible for Kaito to determine how many days passed for the emperor, lost in his sordid plans, until the sudden arrival of another visitor from the Meu Rehn coaxed Ao to appear in his throne room. His own ministers gaped at the youth, with his hair and clothes in disarray and the look of a beaten, furious dog in his bloodshot eyes.

A child with green hair knelt before him, surrounded by four faceless servants. There was a tiny crown of red flowers perched on his head, yet the phantom lights of his kind were absent. In a strange, high-pitched voice, the boy asked in obviously memorized lines about the state of their alliance, now that the previous Envoy was dead.

Ao screamed, and almost managed to grab the child and choke him. One of his protectors quickly took the small Envoy in his arms, and the child buried his terrified face in his neck.

“He’s not dead! You’re lying!” Ao spat, making the child burst into tears. His whole court observed in shock as he tried to seize the child and his servant, only for the escort to make a graceful leap into the air, and land by the chamber’s door. The other three quickly joined him and adopted defensive postures, shielding the green-haired child.

“He will return to court immediately, or I will cease all your privileges!” Ao hollered.

“He’s dead! My brother’s dead!” The child shouted back in a pitiful shrill.

“Your Imperial Highness-“ Yuuma took a cautious step forward from the line of ministers.

“If the Envoy doesn’t surrender to me in a week, is my decree that all the lands and property of Meu Rehn are forfeit. No crimes against you will be punished!” Ao pointed to the group at the other end of the room.

The escorts turned to each other, as if in consultation, but no words crossed between them. One of them made a motion with his arm in the direction of the open windows, and as one, they leaped out, still protecting the weeping child with their bodies.

Things quickly deteriorated after that. The Meu Rehn disappeared, leaving both allies and enemies perplexed, and shifting the balance of power in the empire. Ao became so unstable that his memories were just tangled knots of rage and despair, impossible to understand. Political forces began to move around him, as he waged war on everyone in court that seemed even a bit suspicious. Nothing about his final days made any sense to Kaito, filtered as it was through the eyes of an ignorant, insane tyrant.

Soon enough, he found himself at the foot of a tower, surrounded by flames. Again, Yuuma made him enter it, and then closed the door at his back. Again, Ao turned around to plead to his last minister.

And then Yuuma locked the door of the tower _and smiled._

“Goodbye, Ao.” His voice was light and musical, as if he was experiencing the most joyful day of his life. “My father will smile upon me…I proved him right!” The light of the fires shone in his enraptured eyes, wet with tears of happiness. Ignoring Ao’s screams, he began to calmly walk in the direction of the invading provincial army.

Kaito’s eyes flew open, and he sat up, suddenly feeling a complete clarity of mind. He and Gakuto looked at each other, and the older man raised an eyebrow. “So, feeling better?”

Better was perhaps not the proper word, but Kaito nodded anyway. What he had was a feeling of _purpose_. He had to find out more about Yuuma, and what those last words meant. His smile, lost to the past and the flames, was secretive and taunting.

And very familiar.


	21. Chapter 21

XXI

Gyuugan seemed as white and worn down as it had been when Kaito left for the south. He and Gakuto were observing the shoreline from the deck of their swaying ship. It was close to midday, and the docks were buzzing with activity.

“Do you wish there was a crowd of fans waiting for your arrival, Master Kamui?” Kaito inquired with a smile. He was feeling much more rested, now that Ao’s life wasn’t being poured into his skull every night. Ever since the revelation of Yuuma’s betrayal, the nocturnal parade of unsettling images had completely faded, for whatever reason.

“Not with this appearance, scum. I have an image to maintain,” Gakuto replied, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

“You’ll find the house well stocked to remedy that, I think. Gakupo received several coffers worth of clothing and jewelry from the bigwigs of the city, not to mention all the gifts from merchants and the like. Everyone wanted to see him perform.”

“I’m not surprised,” Gakuto stated, swelling with pride.

“The house is in that sector.” Kaito pointed out the posh residential neighborhood close to the castle. “I intend to drop you there, and then make a visit to the college. If you want anything from the shops, please let me know.”

“Why would _you_ go to a college? Can you even read, scum?” Gakuto raised an eyebrow.

Kaito looked away rolling his eyes, but ignored the jab. “Gakupo made friends amongst the students. I’ve been thinking, maybe they can help me track some useful information in the college archives. Maybe some way to contact him, to know he’s alright?”

It went further than that in reality. Kaito also wanted to know if there was any reference to Yuuma in the historical records. Any scrap of information that might explain his behavior. Maybe a secret alliance with Danzaku Ama, or a personal vendetta against Ao or the mages. Despite how pointless it was to be bothered about it, the impulse to know more was strong.

Gakuto accepted his plan with an approving nod. “Yes, the sages might know how to summon my son back. Once he does, we’ll build an even more glorious theater here.”

***

Masao and Rion came down to the college entrance to meet Kaito, surprise and curiosity liberally mixed in their faces.

“Is Gakupo ok?” Masao asked anxiously as soon as the greetings were out of the way. “Please tell me he’s ok!”

_Tone it down, kid._ Kaito’s first instinct was to feel extremely annoyed at the hyperactive student, but in this case his excessive energy and love for Gakupo would serve him well.

“I don’t know.” Seeing the youngsters’ disappointed expressions, Kaito hurried to add, “That’s why I need your help. Do you have free access to the college archives?”

“The archives? Most of it, except the dean’s personal collection …why?” Rion asked.

“I want to search for clues on how to contact Gakupo. Anything regarding Meu Rehn and their native realm might be useful. “

Rion and Masao looked at each other.

“Young sir, young lady, if you intend to let your visitor come in, please do so. The gatehouse is not a proper place for extended conversation,” the guard at the gate interjected.

“Ah, right! Please follow us,” Masao caught himself, and motioned Kaito to follow them across the stone courtyard into the main building. Several winding corridors later, the trio plopped down on a bench in the corner of a long study hall. Other students graced Kaito with a few glances with varying degrees of interest, but no one openly questioned his presence.

“Look, I heard that mixed bloods like me could be taught to use magic like a full blooded mage,” Kaito started in a subdued tone. He studied the faces of Gakupo’s friends carefully, and noted something interesting: Rion seemed as surprised as it could be expected, but Masao just waited for him to continue, only tensing when Kaito’s eyes remained fixed on him.

“What?”

“You knew this already,” Kaito surmised. “How?”

“Masao? Where did you hear that?!” Rion looked at her classmate suspiciously.

The youth began to stammer, looking at anything in the room but them. “I…I was researching magic in the archives.”

“And?”

“Um, I found references to some studies done during the late Imperial period, but- but the books were in the dean’s collection, so…”

“So you broke in,” Kaito completed the sentence. Masao’s face went completely red.

“Masao, you could’ve been expelled! What were you thinking?!” Rion grabbed his upper arm by the tunic, shaking him a bit.

“I just-I wanted to know more about _him_ ,” the student started in a meek voice, but suddenly he bristled, as daunting as a wet puppy. “I’m not giving up on Gakupo, you hear me? I won’t lose to you!”

_Oh, forget Yu and his armies,_ now _I’m intimidated,_ Kaito thought with amusement. Out of the corner of his eye, he observed that Rion was trying very hard not to laugh. “Look, help me contact Gakupo and I’m sure he’ll be very happy to choose between us,” Kaito replied waving a hand.

Masao clearly resented Kaito’s flippant tone, but nodded after a moment.

“Did you find anything I can use, some words of power...or, I don’t know, a potion recipe or something?” The former bandit hesitated. After all, it had taken Gakupo himself to activate the spell that showed him the past. What if direct contact with a Meu Rehn was required? But perhaps that meant he already have been _changed_ , and all he needed to do was to learn how to control the magic.

“There were some songs and dances.” Masao scratched his head, thinking back. “According to the books, spies were sent to the Spirit City and they watched the Meu Rehn perform sacred ceremonies to transform the mountain,” the student whispered.

“Great, did you copy all of it down?”

“Um…no, why would I do that? I just returned the books to their places and sneaked out,” Masao replied, looking at Kaito like he was a lunatic.

It took all of Kaito’s self-control not to slap his own forehead. Instead, he rubbed the skin between his eyebrows. “I need to see those books, then.”

“There’s no way the dean will grant an outsider permission to see them,” Rion pointed out.

“Who said anything about permission?” Kaito smiled and reached for a lock-pick in his pocket. “I’m ready for some light reading.”

“Hey, the guard knows that we let you in. We’ll be in trouble if you get caught!” The girl looked around as if expecting the guards to show up at any second, but nobody else in the study hall seemed too interested in their conversation.

“That’s why I’m going to leave, and then you can let me in through another door in secret. I’m sure there must be some other way for students in a festive mood to go in and out of the college,” Kaito explained calmly.

“….Maybe.” this time around, Rion was the one to blush, probably thinking of some late night activities her tutors wouldn’t approve. Masao turned to her wide-eyed, which earned him a shove. “What are you looking at, dummy?!”

“Yeah kid, it’s rude to stare,” Kaito guffawed. “While I’m engaged in my scholarly pursuits, can you two check on some historical records for me? I need information on the last Minister of Justice of the empire, Yuuma son of Yama. Will you do that for me?”

“We can try,” Masao replied, visibly confused.

“I’ll explain later. Give me a small tour of the archives and the surrounding area before you let me out,” Kaito requested.

It was rather thrilling to be back on the job, all things considered.

***

_The best thing about academic types is how neglectful of security they are_ , Kaito thought contently, observing the walls of the dean’s private library. They were covered from floor to ceiling in shelves, simple and worn pieces of furniture full of antique tomes. In the center of the room, there was a long table with a series of crystal cases over it. Each one displayed a book in its own velvet cushion. Even without close inspection, it was clear they were extremely valuable. Kaito’s fingers were itching, almost begging him to take a souvenir or two. _Alright, I need to focus_ , he told himself mentally.

Following Masao’s instructions, he quickly collected the books he needed and stashed them in a small satchel. One of them was in one of the crystal cases, so it wasn’t going to take long for the dean to notice its absence.

“Sorry, but I really need this,” Kaito whispered to the grim old man in a portrait over the door to the next chamber. It was likely a previous dean, and he seemed distinctly unhappy with him. Turning his back to the portrait, Kaito opened the window and escaped towards the roofs. It was easier than to brave the corridors below and risk running into a guard or a student past their curfew.

The college’s architecture seemed almost tailor-made for this sort of exercise. Kaito nimbly jumped and climbed, enjoying the evening air. None of the guards down below let their gaze raise about ground-level, like silly little ants. Kaito knew better than to grow overconfident before he left the scene, but he still allowed a big smile to adorn his face. He felt extraordinarily happy, yet unhurried. He would eat a filling dinner, get a good night sleep, and examine the books in the morning.

And then, he would see Gakupo again.

High above the city streets as he was, he recalled the day of the play, and Gakupo’s mad escape towards the mountains. Well, now he was on the verge of learning secrets he had hoped to possess since he was a child. Perhaps he could learn to traverse the air like the mages did. Who knew what the limit to this power was? For a single instant, he saw himself back in the imperial throne, enveloped by the light of magic. Gakupo sat by his side, smiling with adoration as he watched Kaito rebuild Eto into the shining center of the world.

Kaito stopped on a stone ledge, next to a stone gargoyle. Both of them peered down at the street outside of the college with similar expressions of befuddlement. What was that, just now? His enthusiasm was getting the better out of him. And yet, he still felt excited. All the doubts he had harbored during his trip seemed to have vanished. The truth about the past was almost completely uncovered, in all of its ugliness. And yet, Kaito now knew that Gakupo hadn’t lied to him: deserved or not, he had his forgiveness. He just needed to truly become a ‘good man’.

“I have to admit though, good men usually don’t steal priceless books”, Kaito whispered to himself. “But I’ll return them as soon as possible.” With his conscience momentarily mollified, he continued his escape.

The return home was uneventful. Kaito couldn’t help but feel a bit proud that he hadn’t lost his touch, even after all this time. He easily avoided the patrols of guards (no sense in attracting unnecessary attention), and arrived to the house just in time for dinner. Surprisingly enough, there were several calling cards and invitations lined on the table at the entrance, proving that there were already rumors circulating about Kamui being in town.

The man himself was sitting in the dining room, with a cup of liquor in his hand and a relaxed expression. Evidently, he had sent the servant Takumi out to get him tincture, because his hair was back to perfect and shiny black. He was wearing one of the many outfits Gakupo had been gifted, an extravagantly decorated lilac robe, matching the ribbon in his hair and the necklace circling his throat. He even seemed to be wearing makeup, mostly to hide the effects of aging. It was a good look for him.

“Go wash up and come back, scum. I hate eating alone,” Gakuto exclaimed curtly upon noticing Kaito in the doorway.

“Um, sure,” Kaito replied. _I wonder if he uses that tone with his underlings all the time._

When Kaito returned, the meal dishes were already placed on the table, giving out steam. He sat across the master artist, feeling extremely awkward. Why was the man looking at him like that? Gakupo said this blue and white silk outfit suited him, so Kaito wore it to match the ambiance and Gakuto’s level of elegance. Perhaps he was overdoing it?

“I suppose you look _slightly better_ when you give two seconds of thought to your appearance,” Gakuto noted with a disapproving frown. He continued to assess Kaito, like a cook appraising disappointing fish in an open market. “What happened to your face?” The artist poked his own cheek lightly.

“This?” Kaito touched the scar under his eye, puzzled. Why the sudden curiosity? Gakuto had never bothered to ask him anything personal before. “It was in a fight, a couple of years before I met Gakupo. The other guy ended up worse.” He smiled, hoping the strange atmosphere would dispel.

On the contrary, that only made the artist scowl further. “Savage!” He sipped again from his glass and added, “I suppose I should be thankful that someone of your _talents_ was there to help my son, though.” Lips pursed, he considered Kaito for a few seconds before shaking his head.

_What in the world is he thinking?_ Kaito wondered, more intrigued than offended.

Finally, the man placed the cup on the table and crossed his arms. “I’ve arrived to a decision.”

“Oh?”

“I’ll allow you to continue to live here with us. Unfortunate as it is, this age of violence requires the presence of men such as you in the retinue of a household.”

“I’m _so_ flattered.”

“I’m not finished.” Gakuto glared at him, perhaps wishing to do some savagery of his own. “Don’t presume yourself to be anything more than an employee. Your relationship with my son is inappropriate, and you will not pursue it any further.”

“May I point out that this is _his_ house? I’d say he decides who lives here. Besides-” Kaito started to say in the most disrespectful tone he could muster.

“He’ll obey my orders, like the good son he is,” Gakuto cut him off. “Now, did you get the information you needed in the college?”

Kaito blinked. Did this powdered snob really think he could boss them around? Even if Gakupo accepted his commands out of filial duty, Kaito was in no obligation to do the same. Not to mention, it was a rotten way to treat someone that had risked his neck to get him out of imprisonment. With so many impertinent responses running through his mind, Kaito was having trouble deciding which one was his favorite. But the thought of Gakupo’s unhappy expression stayed his tongue, at least for the moment.

Gakuto smoothed his hair. “Look, scum. My son is beautiful, talented and sweet-natured; I can hardly blame you for your interest in him. But see it from my perspective for a moment. You don’t have money or lands, power, or even an honest trade. What will his patrons think of my son if he settles down with someone like you? Just be happy you get to serve him and tell me how things went in the college, please.”

“I’ve got a couple of books that might be useful,” Kaito answered, mustering his patience.

“Just some books? Did you tell the leader of the college you were there on my behalf? …I assume not, given your expression.” Gakuto sighed. “I’ll go personally as soon as possible, then. Unfortunately, I have an appointment with the triumvirate tomorrow.”

Truth be told, Kaito hadn’t even considered using Kamui’s name to be granted an audience. That kind of power wasn’t part of his usual set of tools, after all. But it was too late now.

“Eat your food, scum. It’s getting cold,” Gakuto commanded, unbothered by Kaito’s silence. It was, at least, an order the younger man could accept without hesitation.

The rest of the dinner was sprinkled with Gakuto’s questions about the influential people of the city, which Kaito struggled to answer. It had never been in his plans to disentangle the net of political influence and alliances each family and guild had, nor had he ever broached the subject with Gakupo. _What does it matter to scum such as myself?_ Kaito thought more than once, hiding his bitter smile behind his goblet. _If you find me so unworthy, why even speak to me?_

***

The next morning was fresh as water from a mountain stream. The spring flowers of the garden seemed to be engaged in a fierce competition to be the most fragrant and vibrant. The leaves were similarly beautiful, each and every one lustrous and eye-catching against the dark soil.

Kaito walked towards the center of the garden, carrying the books and a bundle of rolled papers in his arms. He crossed the small lawn of grass, enjoying its wet touch against his bare ankles. His destination was a small pond, surrounded by a couple of stone benches and some trellis with wisteria. It wasn’t exactly the setting one could expect for magic weaving, but he didn’t have a dungeon full of mysterious artifacts and a bubbling cauldron at hand.

After placing his cargo on a bench, he sat down and started examining the bundle of papers. It was a short note by Masao and several pages full of research about Yuuma, and it had arrived first thing in the morning from the college.

The note read: ‘ _Here’s all we could find. I hope you find it of use. Have you heard? Several tomes are missing from the archives; the whole college is in uproar. I pray that they are returned soon.’_

“At least the kid is wise enough to be discreet about it,” Kaito whispered to himself. He put the note aside and examined the pages, covered in a mix of Rion’s and Masao’s handwriting.

Yuuma was the only heir to two prestigious bloodlines long associated to imperial governance. His mother died soon after his birth, drowned in confusing circumstances. Like the visions of the past informed Kaito, Yuuma’s father passed away due to illness, when he was only 15.

“Prime age for becoming a minister,” Kaito said aloud while shaking his head.  

Next, the students had compiled a small list of his accomplishments as a government official, but the real point of interest came later.

Yuuma married a daughter of the governor of Danzaku Ama only weeks before the revolt started. Naturally, at the time the ceremony had been carried out in secret, and the bride whisked in and out of the capital disguised as a maid. By the time the armies marched into the capital, she was safely home in the traitorous city-state, pregnant with twins. The minister himself disappeared during the siege of the imperial palace and was presumed to have died during it. One branch of his descendants still controlled the city-state, while another spread to southern Eto. One of the most infamous members of the second line was the deceased tyrant of Koume, Yu.

Kaito stared at the page with incredulity. Even Rion was aware of how distasteful a coincidence it was, going by the comments hastily added to the margin, asking if this was why he had asked for the information.

He put the papers aside with a grimace, and began to investigate the stolen books. There was a lot of conjecture in them, almost drowning the few credible details. Those bits of information had been obtained mostly during the late Shion period by underhanded means. There was some debate whether the imperial family had been involved in any way, but the rumor was that a female Meu Rehn, Lady Yukari, had been captured two generations before Ao by an unnamed family of importance in the court, and forced to participate in their experiments with mixed bloods.

“How could they ‘force’ her?” Kaito began to flip pages, impatiently. He soon found the answer, when he turned the page and found himself staring at a hurried sketch of a plant. It was the main ingredient of a concoction that made the mages very susceptible to suggestion, according to the text. The exact details on how to brew it were only known to the ones that carried out the experiments.

Kaito rubbed his face. The noxious smell of the potion Akano and Yu used to try and control Gakupo was still fresh in his mind, unfortunately. The conclusion was fairly easy to draw. Somehow, they knew how to prepare the mind-altering drug.

Setting aside the book, he took a steadying breath. Then, he opened the next one, the tome that had been in display in the center of the dean’s library. It was a copy of the results of the clandestine studies on Meu Rehn and their magic, by way of spying, kidnapping and defilement of their dead. _What a priceless treasure this is_ , Kaito thought nauseated. But it could become the key to harnessing the power Gakupo awoke in him.

He examined the contents, trying to focus on the task at hand. He stood up and began to move slowly, mimicking the dance described on one page. According to the spy’s report, a group of Meu Rehn shaped the stone of the mountain into a beautiful palace with it. With some difficulty, he deciphered the musical notation used to record their song, and began humming.

Could this really help him? Gakupo didn’t need any weird ceremonies to jump around or slash enemies. Same for the times Kaito’s mind wandered into the past.

“The past...,” he whispered. From everything he knew, it seemed very likely that Yuuma had ordered the Envoy’s assassination. It was a gross injustice to leave that unaddressed. The young minister had perished without seeing the fruits of his treason, but he still had won in a way, given that his descendants still ruled the center of the revolt. It left a sour taste in Kaito’s mouth.

The wind began to pick up. Kaito continued tracing circles, and during one of them placed the book back on the bench without stopping. There was something hypnotic to the dance, the repeated movements and measured steps. He felt taut like a string on a musical instrument, all of his body vibrating slightly to an unheard melody. He closed his eyes and sang, and the notes came to him across impossible distances, a wave of sound overcoming all rational thought. All he knew was the _urge_ to change things, to shape the world into something new.

Kaito opened his eyes to fire and destruction. There was a tower in front of him, still beautiful despite being surrounding by the horrifying spectacle of a palace in flames; a voice uncannily like his reverberated in the air, coming from the ground floor of the structure, cursing and yelling.

And between Kaito and the building, a youth with rose-colored hair stood staring back at him, as shocked as he was.


	22. Chapter 22

XXII

Yuuma’s face slowly changed from surprised to fascinated as he studied Kaito’s face. He quickly glanced back at the tower, where Ao was still raging against the locked door, and then his eyes returned to Kaito.

“It’s you, isn’t it? You wandered through time!” Yuuma seemed more and more excited as he considered the possibilities. “It _is_ possible, I can go to her…”

“Why did you do it?” Kaito recovered enough to ask. Obviously, thinking about the past had directed the magic towards that day of Ao’s death. Not what he intended, but since he was there, it was time to get some answers.

“What do you mean?” Yuuma asked distractedly.

“The Envoy. You had him killed, didn’t you?” Kaito took a step forward and grabbed a fistful of Yuuma’s dark tunic.

The younger man seemed completely unimpressed by the maneuver. He gave Kaito an exaggerated eye roll, as if the whole thing was a poor joke.

“It was a mistake. I wanted a mage to absorb his powers, but the men I hired weren’t the sharpest tools in the box. They thought bringing me one of his servants would suffice. Idiots.”

“Why!?”

“Why not? Why should they be the only ones with this power? _I deserve this._ I’ve proved myself to be so much better than you and your tainted blood!” Yuuma smiled, but it was more reminiscent of a wolf baring his fangs than anything human.

“My father spent many years purifying me of the corruption that fills you, Ao. He knew from the start that you were as bad as your father and uncle.” The minister’s eyes again shone maniacally, full of feverous love. “But he gave me the chance to be different. _I am no longer like you_.”

“What in the world are you talking about?”

“Why do you think you and I are the only mixed bloods in court?” A gust of hot, smoke-filled air passed by, making them both cough, but Yuuma made no attempt to take advantage of the situation to escape, even after Kaito released him. In fact, he seemed to be relishing the chance to finally talk about it all.

Kaito finally cleared his throat after a few seconds. “You are a secret descendent of Lady Yukari, is that it?”

Yuuma laughed bitterly. “By the gods, you are truly an imbecile. I just spoke of your father and uncle, and of being tainted. What more do you need?”

Kaito froze. A shiver trailed down his spine, partly because of the repulsive idea that crossed his mind, and partly because of a strange sensation creeping all over his body. _Something was happening to him._

Yuuma nodded, seeing his expression. He was much less animated than before. “My mother never recovered from their cruelty. One day, she simply couldn’t take it anymore. She stepped into the gardens when no one was watching her, and…” The youth closed his eyes. “They found her body inside the pool, much later. She died alone and broken, because of your family.”

“…I’m sorry,” Kaito muttered. Even if the youth before him was involved in many bad deeds, he couldn’t help but be moved by the deep sorrow in his face. Before he could add anything else, a sudden flaring pain made him recoil and hold his head in his hands.

Yuuma ignored his agonized movements. “Oh, you are sorry? Didn’t you drag that man to your bed just as forcefully?!” Suddenly, he exploded with rage. “Even after everything my father said, I was willing to give you a chance. But you are corrupted! This is as much your fault as it is mine!” The youth waved his arms, signifying the whole burning scenery around them, and his voice broke into a strange laugh.

“What’s going on?” Kaito asked, not really directed towards Yuuma. He felt so dizzy.

“Looks to me that you exhausted what little magic you had by coming here. And now your body is rejecting this place and day,” Yuuma explained nonchalantly. “I’ve been doing a lot of research on the topic, thanks to my new power source.”

Kaito stumbled, his own breathing loud to his ears. “What-what is going to…?” The scenery blurred into blacks and reds before his eyes.

“I’m not completely sure, but I hypothesize your body will try to return to your correct point in time. Without enough magic you’ll just crumble on the way, though.” Yuuma broke into malicious giggles, discordant and unsettling….Which made him be completely unprepared when Kaito jumped forward and grabbed him.

“How about you come back with me!” The blue-haired man growled. His momentum propelled them towards the ground, but instead of crashing against it, the world broke into a million pieces all around the pair.

Nothing. There was nothing around them. They were falling in emptiness.

No, there was _something_. An awful roaring absence, twisting the spiral of time, all the coils of memories and chains of events, days and decades and centuries, and no end, never an end to any of it. A whirlwind with a million needles of intangible metal attacked Kaito’s body, searing and chilling, and he found himself screaming and being pulled in all directions. All of his past was a faded illusion, next to the reality of this awful pain. The nothing around him pawed at him, greedily awaiting the point when his body would dissolve.

Vaguely he was aware of another voice screaming, calling for a long-gone mother, until it was suddenly silenced. He was alone. Perhaps he had always been alone. Perhaps nothing had ever truly existed but him and the pain.

A moment later, he had no sight. He could no longer hear his own voice, but it felt like his throat was producing sounds. He tried to touch his mouth, but his hands wouldn’t move, and he couldn’t feel a thing, not even his fingers brushing against one another. He had no senses left at all. The shroud of malignant hunger around him roared mockingly and sunk a million hooks into him.

He felt himself unraveling like yarn. The atoms of his being were spilling, tumbling and rolling away from him, mere grains of an hourglass cracking under the pressure of history. There were no words left inside his mind, only one sentence, echoing endlessly. _If I die here, I’ll dissipate…like I never existed._

He was…

He wasn’t alone. There was someone quickly approaching him, a rush of air and suddenly the feeling of two slender arms surrounding him.

He could hear. A hoarse voice crashed against his eardrums, the tones of a frantic young man. “Kaito! Hang on!”

He could sense a body pressed against him and silky hair brushing against his neck and cheek. His arms shook terribly, but slowly he managed to envelop that body with them.

He could see. They were so close to him, two exhausted but determined blue-green eyes and a pale face, the most beautiful face he had ever seen. “Kaito, don’t forget yourself!”

“…?”

“Kaito, your name is Kaito! No, keep your eyes open!” The young man before him seemed upset. It filled Kaito with the need to erase the fear and worry in those eyes. He wanted nothing more than to see Gakupo happy.

“Gakupo…I…” Before this thoughts congealed into a coherent sentence, there was a stronger impact than any blow he had ever received, and unlike any of them. Somehow, it seemed to strike his mind and soul as much as it battered his body, rocking him so hard that he blacked out.

Silence.

A drop of water fell. And then another, and another. A steady stream muttered. A river sang. An ocean clamored.

 _The ocean called him_. The unending cathedral sang, and a part of him answered. For the first time, he could hear the faint echo of his blood, before the shore claimed him.

Kaito opened his eyes and found himself sprawled on the ground. He appeared to be lying over the grass behind their house, looking up at Gyuugan’s pure spring sky. He ached all over, and his head pulsed painfully, as if long needles had been inserted through his skull. For a while, he remained where he was, trying to remember what was going on. He felt too pained for it to be a simple hangover, and he didn’t remember drinking all that much the night before.

“No!” A loud voice startled him. He turned his head just enough to see Gakuto on the balcony, hair loose and clad in his nightclothes, staring for a moment at the ground below, before quickly turning around and rushing back into the house. Kaito lazily followed the direction of his gaze.

Gakupo was lying crumpled on the ground between him and the house, with torn clothes and hair snaking in all directions. His eyes were closed. The ever present lights around him seemed dimmer than usual, even accounting for the brightness of the morning sun surpassing them.

Kaito sat up with a jolt. The memories flowed back as he examined his own torn clothes. Surprisingly, there were nothing but a few scratches and bruises underneath. He turned his eyes back at Gakupo, going over the previous events in his mind. His heart began beating fast, so much it felt like it was about to explode.

Gakupo had saved him. He somehow knew Kaito made a foolish mistake, and propelled himself through time and space to find him. Part of him wanted to run to Gakupo and take him in his arms, crying tears of happiness. But he remained where he was, fearful. Why wasn’t Gakupo moving? Was the effort to bring them both to the present too much? Was he…?

No, it wasn’t possible. Not for his sake. Even fate couldn’t be this cruel.

Yet Kaito remained rooted to the spot, until Gakuto came out of the back door, followed by the servants.

“Oh, oh no! Son, open your eyes!” The haughty and elegant Gakuto cried out and keeled next to Gakupo, unmindful of the dirt. He cradled his son in his arms and tears rolled down his cheeks. He looked much more youthful, when he allowed himself to act so unrestrained.

“….Father?” It was almost too faint to hear, but Gakupo’s eyelids trembled, and he then repeated the word slowly.

“Gakupo!? Son, what’s wrong?!”

Gakupo mumbled something, too low for anyone but his father to hear.

“Rest? You need rest?” The master artist waited for a few seconds, but Gakupo seemed to have fallen asleep. “Takumi, bring him to the master bedroom. Hana, prepare food and drink for when he wakes up!” Gakuto yelled and rubbed his teary eyes ferociously.

“Yes, Master!” Takumi picked up Gakupo, showing some mild surprise at how little he weighted, and hurried inside, followed by Hana.

Only then Gakuto seemed to notice Kaito, still sitting on the ground. He advanced towards him, and made him stand up by pulling the front of his shirt.

“You swine! When I said summon him back, I didn’t mean kill him in the process! Pray that he’s only tired, or I’ll make you regret this!” He growled, completely infuriated. He let go suddenly, making Kaito drop to his knees, and returned inside.

Despite the circumstances, Kaito felt relief wash over him. Gakupo was alive, and back by his side. He stood up again, and walked shakily after Gakuto. He stumbled up the stairs, hearing Gakuto’s forceful voice command something to Takumi before the door of the master bedroom closed. When he reached the second floor’s corridor, Kaito ran into Takumi, pacing fretfully before the door.

“Sorry, Kaito. The Master says you aren’t allowed to go in,” the servant explained sheepishly.

“What? He can’t-I need to see Gakupo!” Kaito waited, but Takumi didn’t move. The former bandit briefly considered pushing his way through, but the servant was only doing his work. Scowling, he retreated to a guest bedroom and laid on the bed, without even bothering to take off his ruined clothes.

Time went by slowly. The pain in his limbs and head subsided after Hana brought him a hot herbal remedy alongside lunch, but the feeling of being drained remained. Despite of it, he couldn’t sleep.

With nothing else to distract him, Kaito thought of Yuuma. He idly wondered if his minister had ever noticed how much Ao and him were alike, despite all his hate for him.

Had Kaito changed history, by travelling back to the burning palace? Was Yuuma always meant to die that day? Kaito recalled with a chill how the young man’s voice had been abruptly silenced, in that place that wasn’t a place at all. _It hungers for magic and life._ The phrase came to him, fully formed, yet unexplained and foreign. Who had said that? When? He didn’t know. All he knew is that the ravenous vacuum had claimed Yuuma, and his dreams of power, his love for this parents, his cruelty and his loneliness. And Kaito had caused that to happen. He had been blindly lashing out when he grabbed the young minister, not even sure he was speaking the truth. Now they both knew the answer.

His thoughts continued to drift aimlessly. So many things had happened since the day he saw the smoke rising up in the air, tainting the sky of southern Eto. He had nothing but bitterness, then. How different that man was from the Kaito now full of anxious hope.

He had witnessed pointless cruelty and freely-given kindness in his trip, good and bad delivered in equal measure. He had made tenacious enemies, but also many unexpected friends and allies. Oliver and his parents, Kiyoteru and Yuki, Akito and the other soldiers, Chiyo and Kane, and even the college students. And he discovered many things about himself and about what he really wanted out of life.

Dusk was tinging the world outside when Takumi finally poked his head into the room and told him he was being called into the master bedroom. Kaito walked briskly down the corridor with a bright smile on his lips.  

Gakupo was sitting in bed with his back propped against some cushions. Master Gakuto was by his side, still in his nightclothes and with tussled hair, despite the hour. Kaito realized the man had probably spent all day watching over his son, and felt himself growing to like him. His love for Gakupo made them allies, despite the angry glare he was giving Kaito at the moment.

As soon as he entered, Gakupo flashed him one of his loveliest smiles to date. Kaito felt a little light-headed in response. “Kaito, I’m so glad you are alright!”

“Gakupo, thank you.” It was almost an insult, how inadequate the words felt. “I owe you my life.”

Gakupo shook his head silently. He shyly looked downwards, much closer to the boy in the mountain retreat than the severe prince of the mages. “It’s nothing. Kaito, my father and I have been talking-”

“And I remain unconvinced that you’re making the right choice. Look at this scum, child!” Gakuto angrily blurted out, waving a folding fan in Kaito’s direction.

“Please don’t call him that, Father,” Gakupo said softly. He gave Kaito another glance, then again averted his eyes.

“This is simply outrageous! If I only I had been here before, I could’ve nip this in the bud.” Gakuto combed his hair with one hand, in something like a nervous reflex.

“Yeah, if only you had been there for him,” Kaito let slip, before he could stop himself. He covered his mouth guiltily, knowing he had stepped out of line. Both Kamuis stared at him, one perplexed, the other livid.

“What are you trying to say?” Gakupo queried innocently.

“Nothing. I apologize, I was being stupid,” Kaito quickly replied. The elder Kamui pursed his lips and looked away.

“Um, so, I was talking to my father…” Gakupo started hesitantly. He stopped and drew a breath. “I can’t stay here indefinitely.”

“What?” Kaito cried out, louder than he meant. Gakupo cringed.

“I’m still the ruler of my people. I’ll visit as often as I can, but I can’t promise you that I’ll be around every day.” Gakupo rushed the words, perhaps expecting Kaito to interrupt him, but in truth Kaito was too shocked to say a word. “I need you to help my father with the new theater. You have talent; he could train you to run things while I’m gone.” He paused. “I…I know this is not what you expected.” Gakupo’s shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry I can’t offer you the family life you wanted.”

“Don’t apologize,” Kaito whispered. His chest felt like someone had given him a hearty kick, but he soldiered on. “I’ll be here waiting for you, always.”

“Then, would you…” Gakupo trailed off. He drew another breath and closed his eyes. A moment later, he opened them with a newly resolute look. “Kaito, will you be my consort?”

Gakuto made a noise of disgust.

Kaito exhaled. He walked closer to the bed, his perceptions heightened by the rush of emotions swirling inside of him. The feeling of his feet against the floor, the rustling of his clothes, the heartbeat strongly marking the pace in his chest; they all were fighting for his attention, but became nothing when his eyes met that blue-green gaze.

Ignoring the older man’s indignant huff, Kaito sat on the border of the bed and cupped Gakupo’s face in his hands. He leaned in and kissed him softly. There was nothing sweeter in the world than that mouth, nothing more bewitching than the skin under his fingers. After a painfully short time, Kaito pulled back. “Yes,” he said simply, and hugged Gakupo.

“Father, could you give us some time alone, please?” Gakupo requested from inside the circle of Kaito’s arms.

“Outrageous!” Gakuto repeated, but rose from his seat and with great dignity abandoned the room. He carefully closed the door, despite looking like he wanted to slam it fiercely.

Gakupo and Kaito looked at each other.

“He’ll come to accept you in time, I’m sure,” Gakupo claimed unconvincingly.

“I don’t know, it seems to me that if the Emperor of Heaven came down to ask for your hand, Master Kamui would still scrunch up his nose,” Kaito laughed.

“He’s always been a fervent devotee of the Lady of Dawn, maybe he’d prefer that,” Gakupo mused.

“Let’s hope that she doesn’t notice how pretty you are, then,” Kaito replied with a laugh, and squeezed just a little tighter, possessively.

Then, the feeling of Gakupo’s hands softly resting on his thighs made Kaito realize something. _Back there_ , he felt Gakupo’s arms around him, didn’t he? Kaito loosened his hold and gingerly took Gakupo’s hands. The skin was as white as it used to be, except for a few blueish spots, like fading bruises. Reflexively, he pressed his thumb on one, and Gakupo twitched. Kaito immediately let go, blanching. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s ok, they are a bit sensitive at the moment, that’s all,” Gakupo assured him. “Kaito, it was just an accident, stop blaming yourself.”

“How can I?”

“It’s not like I’m an invalid. I feel much better now.” As if to demonstrate it, he caressed Kaito’s cheeks, smiling.

“You are too forgiving for your own good,” Kaito said quietly. Gakupo laughed, and his hands travelled down to rest on Kaito’s chest, over his heart.

“It’s singing for me,” the young man muttered, and closed his eyes. His voice trembled just a bit when he added, “I’ve missed you terribly, Kaito.”

That was too much to resist. Kaito pulled him close and kissed him again, pushing his way into his mouth greedily. Gakupo’s mouth responded to his touch, eloquently betraying how starved he felt for him. His arms were caught between them, but his fingers insistently pulled at Kaito’s frayed shirt, another clear message.

Finally, they separated. “I’m getting the feeling you want to skip right through to the wedding night.” Kaito joked. “Shouldn’t you at least give me a ring first or something?”

Gakupo considered the matter seriously. “There are some traditional pieces of jewelry consorts wear, but the difference of anatomy could be a problem.” His eyes wandered upwards. “Maybe the tail ring?”

Kaito laughed. “And here I thought you were acquainted enough with my rear to know that I don’t have a tail.”

Gakupo blushed slightly. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

“I know, I know, I’m just messing around,” Kaito replied, still laughing. Gakupo was pulling a rather Envoy-ish face, but his expression softened when the blue-haired man lowered them both to rest on the bed. It felt good to lie there with limbs interlocked and his face buried in Gakupo’s neck.

“Um, do you really want me to bring you a ring before we…?” Gakupo asked hesitantly after a minute.

“Oh, I think I can overlook it, but just this once,” Kaito replied magnanimously, before he started untying his sash.

***

Kaito sat alone on one of the many ruined structures in Gyuugan’s seashore, purposely wasting time. His first big role was coming up soon, and he was meant to be practicing, back in the theater. But between the nerves, the restlessness he felt due to Gakupo’s prolonged absence and Gakuto’s endless nagging, he was having trouble remembering his lines. So that morning, he wore comfortable garments and a cape, instead of the elegant robes the master artist insisted a star of the New Kamui Theater ought to wear, and snuck out.

“Like I care about wearing fancy crap,” Kaito muttered with a wry smile. “Well, except for one thing,” he added, making the metal band on his left wrist jingle. It had a curvy, organic pattern, and small blue-green stones surrounding a single purple gem.

His gaze returned to the sea and the smile dissolved into a melancholic expression. It was time to go back to the theater, and prepare his ears for the scolding to come. He pulled his hood over his head and kept it in place with his hand, to thwart the wind and its attempts to push it back. He quickly made his way past the ruins and the sand, and towards the crowded streets near the harbor.

Despite his best efforts go unnoticed, Kaito was soon stopped by two women. Before he knew it, he had a bouquet of flowers in his hands, and a small crowd around him.

“You are my favorite, Kaito!”

“Don’t let stuffy old Kamui stifle your style!”

“I’m really looking forward to ‘Rainfall and Spring’, do your best!”

“When is Gakupo coming back, Kaito?”

“He’ll probably be here for opening night,” Kaito replied. It was merely wishful thinking, since Gakupo was careful not to say anything that could bind him permanently to Eto.

 _I wish I could complain about it_ , he thought, carefully keeping a smile affixed to his face. But his lover had warned Kaito he could be gone for weeks at a time. He masked his turmoil by pretending to smell the flowers, and almost plunged his face into them.

Further along the street, people gasped and cried out. Like a dark wave, many heads turned to the west and upwards. Kaito noticed the commotion just in time to look up and see a colorful figure leap through the air. It disappeared in the direction of the theater, after crossing the air between two buildings.

It was young man wearing a dark cloak trimmed with silver, with long purple hair trailing behind him like a comet’s tail. He was surrounded by a glossy shimmer, visible even in the distance.

“He’s so gorgeous!” One of the women next to Kaito sighed.

“Our very own mage. How many cities can claim that?” A merchant nearby boasted, as if Gakupo was some kind of landmark or tourist attraction.

Kaito clutched the flowers in his arms a bit tighter. “Excuse me, I need to go,” he said to the crowd of onlookers, and ran off grinning before anyone could stop him.

Home was beckoning him, shrouded in pristine light.

THE END


End file.
